


pull away the world from me

by sinkingsidewalks



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, Fluff and Angst, first year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-04-26 01:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14391312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinkingsidewalks/pseuds/sinkingsidewalks
Summary: You can have it all.The Sorting Hat whispers in her ear,all that knowledge. You have so much strength, think of what you could achieve with it.Tessa wants it. Every spell and charm, every curse and potion. She wants to learn it all. To control the greatness which bubbles within her.The Hat awaits her.Across the room Scott has never broken their gaze.//A VirtueMoir Harry Potter AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to the chaos that has taken over my mind the last few weeks, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> The title is from PVRIS 'Separate' which is beautiful and haunting and you should listen to it. Also I changed some personal facts (most notably their age) for purposes of the plot and because I felt too weird to go digging through the internet to find the truth. And finally, shout out to all the people who update the Harry Potter wiki, god knows this wouldn't exist without them my memory is so shit.
> 
> Obligatory note about how I can't believe I'm writing RPF and how if your name is Tessa Virtue you should NOT be here.  
> This is a work of complete fiction.

Tessa turns in front of the floor length mirror at the end of the upstairs hallway, moving through the step sequence from last season’s program. She hums the music to herself as she dances. 

She doesn’t know why she’s practicing, she doesn’t need to be. They’re not competing next season, because they’ve decided to go to Hogwarts. It’ll be weird not skating almost every day, but she and Scott decided. In this instance, their education is more important. 

The mirror bursts out into applause as she settles into the final pose. Scott’s mum bewitched it to critique her form, but it’s also quite liberal with its compliments.

“Tessa!” her mum calls up the stairs. “Time to go!”

“Coming!” She races down the stairs; her mother is already waiting by the fireplace with her sister Jordan. 

“Quickly, quickly.” Kate ushers her faster. “We’re meeting the Moirs outside Gringotts, we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Tessa takes a handful of Floo powder after Jordan’s disappeared and steps into the hearth. 

“Diagon Alley!” No sooner has she shouted the words does a green fire bloom and she feels her stomach being tugged out from beneath her. For a few breathless seconds, she spins, then her feet come back to the ground. 

Jordan stands by the fireplace waiting for her and together they head out into the street, their mother just behind them. 

Diagon Alley is busy and bustling. Hogwarts letters arrived the previous week so she doesn’t doubt that at least half of their first year class is moving through the crowd with their parents. 

Scott appears at her side from within the mass. “Hey, T.”

“Hey,” she grins. He squeezes the top of her shoulder. 

“Excited?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Definitely!”

“You?” she asks, incredulous, “excited for shopping?”

He rolls his eyes. “Hogwarts shopping, not _shopping_ shopping.”

Jordan interrupts by tapping Tessa on the arm. “Look there’s Hagrid.”

“Hagrid!” Jordan calls to the near giant through the crowded street in front of Gringotts, the wizarding bank. Hagrid turns and immediately blooms into a gentle smile contradictory to his size upon seeing Jordan. 

“Jordan! Good to see you.” He claps her on the back and her whole body shakes. Tessa steps back a bit behind Scott. 

“What are you doing here?” Jordan asks. 

Hagrid blushes beneath his great bushy beard. “Oh, you know, just business.” He pats one hand over the breast of his coat like he’s feeling something on the inside pocket. “Business for Dumbledore, as always, very secret stuff. Not for you kids to be meddling with.” He goes a bit redder, then seems to notice Tessa. 

“So this’d be your little sister then? Getting all ready for the school year are yeh?”

Jordan nods. “This is Tessa, and Scott. Hagrid is the Gamekeeper at Hogwarts.”

“We know.” Scott says, because Jordan rarely shuts up about how great he is and how much he helped her with her Care of Magical Creatures exam. Scott sticks his hand out to shake and it looks relatively tiny but that doesn’t seem to quell his unending confidence. “Nice to meet you, sir, Scott Moir.”

Hagrid shakes his offered hand with a somehow gentle enthusiasm. “You’d be Charlie and Danny’s younger brother then?”

“That’s me,” Scott’s grin fades, but only to Tessa’s eyes. She presses her shoulder into his. 

“We should get going,” her voice is quiet under the crowd. 

“Of course,” Hagrid booms. “Lot’s to buy of course. I’ll see you kids around Hogwarts, feel free to drop by my place anytime you like, Jordan can show ya where it is.”

“Thanks, Hagrid.” Jordan waves and pulls the youngers back towards their parents. 

They split up. Jordan goes to Madam Malkin’s for new robes, while Scott and Tessa’s mum head to Flourish and Blott’s to get the year’s textbooks, and Alma supervises Danny at the Quidditch supplies shop to keep the older boy in check. Tessa herself sets off to get the most important piece of supplies, her wand. 

“I’ll meet you in Ollivander’s, yeah?” Scott calls. 

Tessa nods and ducks from the busy street into the dimmed shop. A bell above the door rings somewhere deeper in the shop, beckoning a thin, aged man from the back room that Tessa knows is Mr. Ollivander. 

“Hello,” he greets, she’s the only one in the shop. “Off to Hogwarts, are you?”

Tessa nods awkwardly. “Yes, I need a wand.” Her shoes scuff against the floor as she edges into the room, suddenly feeling as if she’s intruding on something she shouldn’t see.

“Well then, you’re in the right place.” He smiles with surprising warmth. “I am Mr. Ollivander, wandmaker. Come on up and we’ll see what suits you.”

“I’m Tessa,” she says, her voice shallow, “Tessa Virtue.” 

The shop is tiny, it only takes two steps for Tessa to get across the room, standing in front of a long countertop that is the only furniture in the room besides a rickety chair and the shelves and shelves of boxes. Mr. Ollivander is already pulling boxes down, setting them out in front of her to try. 

Tessa picks up the first wand – mahogany, nine inches, dragon heartstring core – and doesn’t expect much. Nothing happens when she waves it. 

Ollivander all but rips it out of her hand, muttering to himself, “no, no, no, all wrong.”

He presses another wand into her hand. “Elm, twelve and a quarter inches long, unicorn hair core, surprisingly swishy, try this.”

She waves again, feeling a little silly when yet again nothing happens. 

“Alright then,” Ollivander exchanges the wand again, and again, and again, until there’s a stack of boxes covering the countertop. A familiar unease bloomed in Tessa’s stomach three wands ago – willow, eleven inches, unicorn hair core – and has been building ever since. She wonders where Scott is as she swishes with still no results. 

Ollivander pauses in his rapid exchange of wands and contemplates her. “Well, well, a tricky customer. No need to worry, after all, the wand chooses the wizard, these things can’t be rushed.” But the worry has already settled, the fear that none of them will work for her. 

She tries another three wands before the bell above the door chimes softly as Scott tromps into the shop. He’s got a tall stack of their textbooks held up on one of his shoulders and a bag slung over the other. 

“Tess?”

Tessa places yet another wand – blackthorn, nine inches, phoenix feather core – back on the counter. The boxes are still piling up and not one has been right. “Over here.”

He grins at her a mixture of greeting and reassurance as he drops into the rickety wooden chair in the corner of the room to wait his turn.

Only then does Tessa realize that the wandmaker had been curiously silent. 

“Ah,” Ollivander nods, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Ah, ah, yes, of course.”

Tessa’s gaze flickers between Scott and the old man. “What?”

Ollivander ignores her. 

“The youngest Moir boy, I suppose?”

Scott nods and his questioning gaze meets Tessa’s. _What’s going on?_ he’s asking. She can only shrug. 

“Of course, of course.” Ollivander nods and swoops off to the back room. 

“He’s awfully mad, isn’t he?” Scott whispers and Tessa hushes him. A moment later Ollivander returns with a long rectangular wand box in each hand. He sets them down on the counter and Tessa creeps forward. 

“Siblings, two feathers from the same phoenix, a rarity. They’ve been sitting up there for longer than I can remember, unusual combinations them both.” He opens the boxes slowly. “One, holly, ten and a half inches, nice and supple, the other, pine, nine and three-quarter inches, unyielding. So different, yet at their cores, the same.”

Scott stands to join her at the counter. His fingers creep forward towards the wand, curious. 

“Of course, the third…” he looks at them too deeply and a shiver runs down Tessa’s spine. “Well, never mind that. Go ahead then.”

Tessa takes the one in front of her, the slightly longer of the two. For the first time, she feels the herself react to the wand, or maybe the wand react to her. There’s a tingling, a warmth, that starts at the tips of her fingers and creeps in towards her palm. 

Scott turns to her at the same moment she turns to him. “Switch?” they both ask. 

“Yeah,” Tessa agrees, almost breathless and already holding out the holly wand. 

The moment her fingers close around pine she knows this is her wand. The warmth that had been blooming at her fingers spreads out over her skin. She flicks her wrist and sparks glitter through the air. She doesn’t have to look at Scott to know that he’s feeling the same thing. 

Ollivander nods, the same dense stare not waning, even as he rings up their purchases and bids them good day. 

They spill back out into the bustling street and Scott rises on his toes try to see over the crowd, looking for their families. 

“Do you think it was weird, the way he was looking at us?” Tessa waits at his elbow as he switches to peering the other way down the street. She’d probably be able to see more herself, she is almost taller than him now, but he’d been getting funny about it lately and she doesn’t want to spark his anger today.

Scott shrugs. “Dunno,” he’s not really listening to her. He points down the street. “There’s Danny!”

Her hand falls into his as he pulls her through the crowd and the strange old man is completely forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading if you've made it to the end! This is new territory for me, I don't usually write (or read) AU's so please let me know what you think!  
> Also, I don't have a beta (but if you're interested lmk! im sinkingsidewalks on tumblr too) so I apologize for any glaring errors that made it though my edit.


	2. Chapter 2

The last weeks of summer pass quickly. Tessa reads through her pile of new textbooks. She and Scott get in as much ice time as they can manage. Scott’s oldest brother Charlie comes home for a weeklong vacation from Romania, where he studies dragons. Then suddenly, September first is on the horizon and they’re off to London, her and Scott, Danny and Jordan, and Scott’s parents and her mum. 

Alma cries on the platform at King’s Cross, hugging Scott, then Tessa, then Scott again. Scott mutters something about the downside of being the youngest as they climb aboard the train. They end up alone, in the last carriage, as Jordan reunites with her fellow sixth years and Danny has to head off the prefects meeting. 

A boy called Neville comes in about halfway through their journey asking if they’ve seen his pet rat but other than that they’re undisturbed. Giddy with excitement and nerves, they spend the train ride like they have always spent travel to competitions, alternating between laughing over old jokes and stuffing their faces with chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties. 

Once they reach Hogsmeade, Tessa hardly feels worried anymore. Boats row them across the lake up to the castle and the view takes her breath away. By the time Hagrid leads them into the Great Hall, Tessa is in absolute awe. 

Candles sway, suspended by air and above that, the ceiling disappears to show a clear starry night. She squeezes Scott’s hand and he grips back with the same excitement. He’s almost vibrating on the spot from it, all nervous happiness. It’s a wonder he’s not literally bouncing off the walls.

They file into the front of the room where the Sorting Hat waits and Tessa tries to listen as the Headmaster speaks but she’s too distracted to take much in. The house banners strung up over long tables, the ghosts floating in and out of walls, Professor Dumbledore with his long white beard and half-moon shaped glasses, it’s all exactly as she thought it’d be but at the same time her imagination didn’t come close. Her focus keeps returning only to Scott, who meets her gaze each time with a mirrored toothy grin. 

At some point the Headmaster finishes and Professor McGonagall starts calling students forward. Because of her name, and the absence of a Weasley in their year, she’ll be the last one sorted. Scott, with his lucky M, is due to be called about halfway through.

The names pass quickly and their group at the front of the room thins. Each student’s house is called out and they’re met with a resounding cheer from their table. Nerves jangle in Tessa’s stomach and she hangs on to one of Scott’s hands with both of hers like before a competition.

“Moir, Scott.” Professor McGonagall calls him up and it sounds sort of strange not to have her name attached to the front of his. 

He squeezes her hand on last time then detangles their fingers to step up to the stool in front of the Great Hall.

The hat is set down on his head and he fidgets, bouncing his leg against the floor. The whole school watches with anticipation but the Sorting Hat stays silent. Scott meets her gaze as the seconds pass. 

One silent minute turns to two and his cheeks flush beet red.

_It’s okay,_ she mouths. 

Biting into his lip, he fixes his eyes on hers. She stares back just as intently, holding onto his gaze like she does his hand. 

Another few minutes pass, but she hardly notices. The rest of the room starts to shuffle, their attention turning away from the sorting as it seems to become evident that a decision isn’t going to be made anytime soon. 

“How is a Moir a hatstall?” someone at the table behind her mutters. 

Tessa wonders what’s happening in his head. They’d assumed he’d be Gryffindor. His whole family was. Apparently the Sorting Hat hadn’t even touched down on Danny’s head six years earlier before it had declared him to the family house. And there’s no doubt in her mind that Scott fits there alongside him.

The trouble is that she’s almost certainly _not_ a Gryffindor. Sure, many would consider her brave, she does go out and dance in front of a crowd, and judges, with Scott but she’s not boisterous and gallant and daring like the Moirs. She’s contemplative and studious and competitive. Much more suited to Ravenclaw or Slytherin. 

Which is why she suspects Scott’s taking so long. Her mother told her, before she left, that the Sorting Hat doesn’t like putting people where they don’t want to go. And Scott has never wanted to go anywhere she won’t follow. If anything, it makes him more of a Gryffindor. 

“Are we never gonna to eat?” someone else complains. Tessa has the urge to hex them, even though she’s never made one go right. 

Scott keeps chewing on his lip though like he hadn’t even heard. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he can’t hear anything now with the Hat in his head. Tessa doesn’t really know how it works. But she hopes it’s over soon because she knows he’ll be embarrassed.

Finally, after Tessa counts the seconds of another four minutes, the Hat releases a suffering sigh. “Gryffindor.”

The table claps somewhat subdued. Scott chin drops and he doesn’t meet her eyes as he goes to sit beside Danny. 

She wants to take his hand, squeeze his fingers in hers and tell him that it’s okay. That she understands. That they’re different and it’s okay. But he’s already too far away, wedging himself onto the long bench at Gryffindor’s table. She’ll have to wait. Though for when she’s not sure. 

The rest of the alphabet passes and Tessa uses it to try to catch Scott’s eyes again. He stares at the empty plate in front of him though. Her attention is so unfocused that she doesn’t realize the only other student left has been called up until the Hat is shouting ‘Hufflepuff!’

“Virtue, Tessa.” Professor McGonagall calls out, even though she’s the only one still standing. 

Her heart pounds against her ribs harder than it does in the moment before their music starts at a competition. Except this time Scott’s not there next to her, not holding her hand and whispering reassurances into her ear. 

She feels a little like she might be sick as she settles onto the stool in front of the school.

He finally meets her eyes from his place at the Gryffindor table, where he sits at Danny’s side, his older brother with an arm slung around his shoulder. From across the room, he smiles, reassuring, familiar. Her heart picks up its pace.

Staring at him, with her heart in her throat, she hopes for it to be enough. 

Professor McGonagall places the Sorting Hat down on her head. She stares at Scott and tries to breathe deep.

_Oooh,_ the Sorting Hat says to her inner ear, _so much power._

Scott blinks. 

_But also loyalty. And love, yes I see now. Such a connection. Such a contradiction. Where to put you…_

Gryffindor? She asks not really knowing if it can hear her.

_Really? Is the boy all you want?_

Tessa hesitates. All of ten seconds have passed. 

_You seek greatness. I see. It could be yours. So much could be yours._

But Scott. He’s still smiling, telling her with his eyes that it’ll be okay. She knows he can read the panic in her expression. The Hat is still babbling in her ear about power. 

But Scott. She thinks about the gentle squeeze of her hand in his, how together they could make the early tulip bulbs bloom, pull their life through the ground, build in seconds what took nature weeks, until gentle sloping petals were unfurling in the April grey skies. She couldn’t do it by herself. She doesn’t know why but without him her power slips from her control, it sparks wild or runs cold with no warning.

With Scott, it’s like he has the key for the magic locked away inside of her. Like he holds half the pieces of the puzzle, half the knowledge, and only together can they create the picture. He clicks something into place, turns the key, and she knows she does the same for him.

_You can have it all._ The Sorting Hat whispers in her ear, _all that knowledge. You have so much strength, think of what you could achieve with it._

She wants it. Every spell and charm, every curse and potion. She wants to learn it all. To control the greatness which bubbles within her.

The Hat awaits her. 

Across the room Scott has never broken their gaze. He nods, just the quick dip of his chin, like he actually can read her mind and is assenting.

“Okay,” she whispers. 

“Slytherin!” the Hat finally shouts aloud, no hesitation. It’s whisked away and Tessa almost stumbles off the stool. Her stomach sinks through to the floor.

A cacophony spills out of the far end table. Green and silver fill the air. Tessa walks towards it automatically. Jordan smiles at her from the Ravenclaw table as she passes. Her back is turned to Scott and it makes her stomach churn. 

Her new house welcomes her into the table, making space along the crowded bench. Someone pats her on the back. 

Tessa feels ripped apart, like she’s left part of herself behind but she can’t remember where, like Scott still has her hand across the room and it’s yanking her shoulder out of its socket. 

Across the long hall it’s still easy to find him. He is still staring at her after all. She doesn’t know what she wants to say to him. That she’s sorry? Or that she’s not? She knows this is right for her the same way she knows he’ll catch her coming out of a lift. It comes from something bigger than her bones.

Her whirlwind of thoughts freeze as he smiles again, in a way she knows is supposed to be comforting, to reassure her. But she knows him too well, she can read his face beneath the mask he attempts to wear. And it tells her everything she needs to know. 

The expression she recognizes in his smile is fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who read and commented and kudosed (is that a word? probably not) on the last chapter. I really do appreciate it and it makes writing so much easier! I hope you've enjoyed this one too! 
> 
> Also, I'm writing this assuming a certain amount of general HP knowledge because I don't want to repeat a bunch of stuff everybody already knows and for it to get stale (also, I'm terrible at world building but shhhhh) but if I'm moving too fast through stuff please let me know! or if you have any questions I'd be happy to answer them in comments or Im around on tumblr at sinkingsidewalks as well!  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to HoldWithThoseWhoFavorFire for beta reading this chapter for me!

Tessa paces along the hallway below Gryffindor tower. She knows the entrance to his common room is around here somewhere. Danny had told them as much over the years as they pestered him for as much information about Hogwarts as he’d share.

She’s not actually looking for it at the moment though, because she still hasn’t figured out what she’s going to say to him. Is she supposed to apologize? Explain herself? Not mention it at all because they both knew, really _knew_ , despite all their talks and plans, that this would happen? She isn’t sure.

Why is she even really here? 

That, she can answer. Because the bed in her dorm room with dark emerald draping is too big and lonely to feel like hers. And none of her roommates had been up in the room as she’d been trying to arrange her things around the bed in a way that made it feel familiar after the feast. She’d been able to hear the rest of her house laughing, rambunctious, catching up from the summer with friends and she hadn’t known how to join them. 

The dungeons felt cold and a hug from Scott was the only thing that would warm her up.

“Hey,” Scott says, gently breaking into her thoughts. 

Her head whips around, she doesn’t know where he came from but there he is. 

“How’d you-?”

“Someone said there was a Slytherin hanging around. They thought-“ he shakes his head. 

A Slytherin. It stings. It shouldn’t but it does. When she’d gotten to her dorm there had already been a pile of green and silver attire on her bed awaiting her. She’d put the tie on because it felt like she should. Now, it burns like a brand against her throat.

“I figured it had to be you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He crosses his arms over his chest, tucking both hands under his armpits in typical Scott-is-uncomfortable fashion.

“I guess we should talk.” Tessa all but whispers to the stone castle beneath their feet. 

“I guess, yeah.”

They stand in silence. Instead, another Gryffindor rounds the corner and stares at Tessa for a long time as he walks down the hallway. Scott stares back at the older boy until he turns the next corner. 

On a huff of annoyance, he holds out his hand. “Come on.”

At the familiar sight of his outstretched hand, the upper layer of her worry eases. He doesn’t hate her at least. She takes his hand and lets him pull her through the castle even though she’s not entirely confident he knows where he’s going.

He doesn’t stop until they reach a quiet corner with a mercifully still suit of armour. Neither one knows how to break the silence. But he at least hasn’t let go of her hand yet. Somewhere, through the walls, they can hear people talking but the voices pass. 

Tessa whispers. “Are you angry with me?”

“Me?” He looks up fast enough that she worries he might have whiplash. “Aren’t you angry with _me?_ ”

She shakes her head, a breath finally releasing the tightness in her chest. “Of course not.” Tessa takes another breath and bites her cheek. “What-“

“Happened?” he finishes. She nods again rapidly. 

He laughs half a breath, self-deprecating, and doesn’t look at her. “I tried to argue with it.” He goes to lean against the wall behind them but the painting barks at him in protest so he folds his arms over his chest again. 

“Oh.”

“I tried to convince it I was good enough to go to Ravenclaw, but obviously it saw right through that, then-“ he cuts himself off, waves a hand up to her throat and her breath catches. “Not that it would have done any good, I guess.”

“Then?” she prompts so they don’t have to get into her yet. 

“Then it told me I could pick between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and I refused to choose.”

“Oh.” She feels like a skipping record but she doesn’t know what else to say. 

“So yeah, that was me.”

Now he’s asking what happened during the mere minute the Hat was on her head for, she knows, but she still doesn’t know how to answer. She’s still not really sure how it happened. Even though she knows it was right. 

“T?” he asks when she’s definitely been quiet for too long.

Her words rush out with a breath. “I asked for Gryffindor but it didn’t-“

He’s already nodding before she stops herself. “It didn’t let you, it’s okay.”

She bites her lip. But that’s not what happened. _I chose,_ she wants to say, but can’t quite because for the first time ever the next word in that sentence isn’t _you._

Whether the Hat would have actually _let_ her choose Gryffindor is another question entirely. She doubts it, but that doesn’t ease her guilt. 

He misreads the cause of her tension and brings her into a hug, kissing the little zigzag of a scar on the bone of her wrist from where she cut it on her toe pick when she was too little to remember on the way. She lets her chin fall against his shoulder because it’s easier than talking. And, after the long and stressful day, it only takes a few passes of his hand stroking up and down her back before she feels like she could fall asleep. 

“It’ll be okay, Tess,” he says into the shell of her ear. “We’ll still have classes together and we can study together and we’ll skate once the lake freezes and-“

She squeezes his ribs, feels more than hears the bubble of emotion in his throat. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been relying on him to be there, with her, at her side, always. Things are a lot scarier when she can’t hold his hand through them. And she certainly underestimated how scary Hogwarts was going to be. 

But right now, she has him to cling on to. And maybe, just maybe, it won’t actually be a big deal to be in different houses. After all, they have spent their whole lives so far living in different houses with different families. Maybe, she rationalizes, it will be just the same as that. 

“Come on.” Scott shifts out of the hug before she feels really ready to leave him, but she lets him break her grip. “It’s getting late and you should get a good sleep before tomorrow.”

He sounds like his mum, and she has a sudden pang of longing through her chest for Alma Moir, and the gooey chocolate cakes she taught Tessa to make with her hands, instead of magic. 

“First day of classes.” She tries to sound excited. She is excited, but she’s also nervous. He sees right through her and loops an arm around her shoulders as they walk. 

“You’re gonna blow them out of the water, T.”

Somehow, she severely doubts that. She holds his hand against her shoulder. 

“ _We’re_ gonna.”

He laughs, loud and bouncing off the walls. This time, when she thinks to herself that it’ll be okay, she actually begins to believe it. 

He ducks his head down and whispers in her ear. “Damn straight.”

“Scott!” she protests, slapping his chest with the back of her hand like she always does when he picks up language from his brothers and repeats it.

“What?” He laughs again, and this time she giggles along, shaking her head.

“Come on.” He taps his fingers against the top of her collar bone. “Show me how to get to this dungeon of yours.”

They end up getting lost not once, or twice, but three times as Tessa takes wrong turns through the shifting castle hallways. It’s fun though, just like what they’d imagined all those times they’d sat together, daydreaming about what life at Hogwarts would be and Tessa feels all the day’s tension slipping away. Eventually, they make it back to the Entrance Hall.

He wraps her up in another hug. “Sleep tight, Tess.”

“You too,” she whispers into the fabric of his robes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nods, perfunctory, and strides away while she goes through the door on the right side of the Hall.

“Virtue,” Professor Snape drawls her name over his tongue, parsing out the second syllable.

Tessa freezes at the entranceway to the common room. The head of Slytherin house had introduced himself earlier, between the feast and her foray to find Scott, with a somehow repugnant disinterest and Tessa had resolved to keep as far from his notice as possible. Something about his squinting dark eyes had run a shiver down her spine. 

She swallows the lump in her throat and tries to make her voice as firm as possible. “Yes, Professor?”

He’s staring at her across the now empty common room. She’s surprised that everyone’s already gone to bed, it must be later than she thought. 

“Cutting it awfully close to curfew. Not the best habit to get into on the first day of your first year.”

Her heart stumbles around in her chest. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. We-“

He raises an oil slick eyebrow.

She swallows again around the unfamiliar taste of singularity. “I got lost. It won’t happen again,” she repeats. 

“Ensure that it doesn’t.”

She nods, jerks her chin to her chest and makes eyes at the corridor leading to her room. When he doesn’t say anything further she starts towards it. But hardly even two steps later his voice brings her to a halt again. 

“And Virtue.”

“Yes, Professor.” She turns and has to stop herself from biting her lip like Scott does. 

“It would do you well to remember what house you’re in. It is your most important asset here at Hogwarts.”

Her heart stumbles over a beat, that achy sick feeling returns to her stomach. “Yes Professor.”

He flicks his fingers in dismissal and she all but runs up to her dorm room. Hopefully her roommates will be more welcoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! You can also come yell at me on tumblr where im also @sinkingsidewalks


	4. Chapter 4

The first days of classes pass in a rush. Every new subject feels just beyond her grasp, stretching her mind – not to mention her magic – in a direction she’d never thought to go before. It’s exhilarating and overwhelming, but at least most of her lessons are blessedly theoretical. Especially since she sits alone in most of her classes, bent desperately over her books, trying not to attract the stares of her ever-curious housemates. 

The Gryffindor and Slytherin first years have two classes together - Charms, which she already loves, and Potions, which she’s already dreading. Her interactions with Professor Snape have not gotten any friendlier and she suspects it’s because every time he sees her, Scott is not far behind.

So far, being in different houses hasn’t changed much. They’ve met after dinner every day in the library where she does her homework and Scott – quietly – regales her with every thought he’s had since he saw her during break after lunch. They sit together in Charms, despite obvious stares and a couple times he even walks with her between classes, only to then have to sprint across the castle to get to his own lesson on time. 

She hears the older students, in the halls when they pass, whispering not so subtly about the little firsties and their baby love affair. It irks under her skin. ‘We’re _partners,_ ’ she wants to shout, she’s not his girlfriend or anything ridiculous like that, even though they did ‘date’ for about a month a few years ago, and it’s so much _better_. But she doesn’t raise her voice, or make a fuss, simply tells herself they’d never understand anyway. 

Wednesday morning, she stares into her glass of pumpkin juice trying to find the willpower to head to a double potions lesson. At least Scott will be there, but it’s still early. Waking up for breakfast is nowhere near as early as she and Scott were rising last season for training but it’s still not late enough for her to find pleasant. 

The Slytherin table is thankfully quiet, since it’s so sparsely populated this early in the morning. Most of her house, it seems, skips breakfast in lieu of an extra hour of sleep. She would consider doing the same if not for the years of athletics preaching the importance of a healthy start to the day.

Across from Tessa, a fifth-year stabs at sausages and Abel, a third-year girl and the only one she’s met in her house so far who seems in any way _nice_ , reads the Daily Prophet beside her. The headline on the front page reads _Break-In at Gringotts Wizarding Bank Under Investigation._

Without noticing, she listens to Scott across the room being rambunctious with the rest of the Gryffindor boys. Seamus, Dean, Neville, Patrick, she knows their names from his talking about them but not which boy is which. They’re laughing, loud together, and Scott is perched on the edge of the bench, teetering, with his arms thrown up. 

If they were skating she’d tell him to get down before he hurt himself and put them out for half a season, but they’re not skating. She’s proud of their decision but it still stings, she still misses it. Winter, and the Great Lake freezing, can’t come fast enough. 

Even across the room he seems to notice her stare. He turns on his heel and meets her eyes over a reading Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff who looks asleep in her cereal. His brow furrows at whatever expression must be caught on her face. 

It’s not surprising that Scott is already the best of friends with his dorm mates and she’s barely spoken to hers. He’s always had a miraculous ability to connect with anyone and everyone he meets. No matter where they are, he’s always pulling her from her shell she likes so much and dragging her along into friendships as easily as he guides her over the ice. 

Without breaking her gaze, he punches one of the boys in the shoulder and leaves the table behind. It’s surprising when he starts walking towards her across the front of the room. He attracts more than one curious glance as he strides across the front of the room without hesitation and she certainly doesn’t expect it. 

He’s yet to broach this side of the Great Hall. So far, after breakfast when he has a funny dream to relay to her on the way to her first class and once they’re finished dinner, ready to head to the library for her to try to convince him to get a head start on his homework, he’s met her gaze across the room and they have left their houses behind in tandem, meeting at the door.

Now, she feels the breath in his chest, moving at her shoulder. He doesn’t need to touch her but his fingers glance gently off her shoulder anyways. 

“Ready, T?”

She nods, picks up her bag, and ignores the heat of Draco Malfoy’s glare. He hates her, she’s relatively sure, because Professor Snape hates her and he’s a suck up. She’s not too worried though. Together, she and Scott could rip him in two. 

It’s a short walk to the potions dungeons because she actually knows how to get there, the advantage of Snape’s classroom being right next to her common room, and they won’t get lost. 

“So is Snape as bad as everyone’s been saying he is?” Scott shuffles his feet to step around a disappearing step.

Tessa shrugs. “I don’t know. He definitely doesn’t like _me_.”

Scott’s head whips up and he makes a sound of obvious surprise. “A teacher who doesn’t like Tessa Virtue? Is the universe feeling okay?”

She laughs, but he takes her hand because he, rightly, knows it’s bothering her. “I’m probably blowing it out of proportion. He’s curt with everyone. But sometimes it feels like he’s watching me.”

“Watching you? That’s weird.”

She nods so fast it’s dizzying. “We’ve never met him before, right?”

“I don’t think so.” He’s biting on the inside of his cheek, she can hear it in his voice. “I don’t know where we would have.” 

Skating had taken up so much of their time growing up that they didn’t venture into the wizarding world too often. Most of her dorm mates have boasted at some point over the past few evenings of having met one of their teachers prior to their arrival at Hogwarts. When Tessa had actually thought about it she’d realized that she wasn’t sure she knew a witch or wizard outside her and Scott’s families. 

“I didn’t think so.” A shiver runs down her spine at the memory of his cold gaze following her across the common room the other night. “It’s just weird because he doesn’t seem to notice that the other first years even exist.”

“Except for you.” Scott shakes his head. “I don’t like this. We should talk to Danny. He’s head boy, he’ll be able to do something.”

“No, Scott.” Her fingers clutch into his wrist. “Please don’t. He doesn’t like anyone. I’m probably making this all up in my head.”

A sound of unease slips through the back of his throat. “But he’s your head of house, Tess. What if you, I don’t know, need something? Need help?”

“I’ve got you.”

He sighs through clenched teeth. “But-“

“I don’t think it’s that big a deal, Scott. Just trust me.” She knows those are the magic words before she says them. They’ve trained themselves in trust as much as athletics. 

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“But if he gives you any trouble promise you’ll tell me.”

She rolls her eyes. “I promise.”

He holds out his pinky, wiggles it in the air between them until she hooks onto it with her own. 

“Satisfied?” Tessa asks.

He’s still frowning. “We’ll see.”

They reach the potions room and Scott pulls the door open for her. Due to their early exit from breakfast, the room is still entirely empty. 

“Back?” Scott pleads. He’s always had to fight against her teacher’s pet instincts. 

“Middle.” Tessa compromises, dropping her books onto a table at the edge of the room but not in the corner. “We don’t want to make a worse first impression.”

“But you already said he hates us.”

“Maybe I’m reading it wrong.” She pouts. “Please Scott?”

He crosses the room and falls into the seat next to her. 

“Excited for flying this afternoon?”

She bites her lip. It had almost slipped her mind that their first official flying lesson is later that day. Nerves reappear in her stomach at his reminder. It’s not that she’s not excited. 

She loves flying. Flying, in her opinion, comes second only to skating. But she’s only ever flown around her family before, playing seeker against Scott in the skirmishes that both their brothers would arrange because they were too small for any other position, and she’s not sure she’s any good. She doesn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Slytherin _and_ Gryffindor.

He must see the worry on her face because he pats her knee. “Don’t worry kiddo. I won’t let you fall.”

She can almost laugh. Even though it would be almost impossible on brooms, she still believes he’d catch her if she slipped. 

Other students start trickling into the classroom from breakfast and Scott ducks his head to speak into her ear. “Maybe if I impress Madam Hooch enough she’ll let me on the Gryffindor team anyways.”

Tessa groans. “Please don’t start this again.” He’d been lamenting for _weeks_ about how unfair it was that first years aren’t allowed to be on the team. 

“I’m just saying, it’s doesn’t make sense. What if there are some _really good_ first years? Not letting them play is damaging for the team.”

“And I guess, you’re _that_ good?”

He shrugs, but she knows the grin on his face. It’s the same one as when they get gold medals hung around their necks – it’s greatness, burning for more. 

The classroom door startles shut behind Professor Snape. His hard gaze sweeps over the smattering of students still talking as he starts taking the class register without any introduction. 

“Wow,” Scott whispers. 

Tessa kicks Scott under their table. 

“Ow!” he hisses. She makes a zipping motion over her lips. He quiets through another few names. 

“Scott. Moir.” Professor Snape’s eyes flick over to them before he’s even read the name. 

“Here, sir.” Scott quips, a grin rolling over his face that almost feels daring. 

“So I see.” He moves on.

“Stop it,” Tessa whispers.

“I didn’t-“

“Something to add, Mr. Moir?” Snape interrupts himself halfway through the next name. 

“Nothing, sir.” At Tessa’s glare he adds a mutter of, “sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t let me interrupt you. I’m sure you and Miss Virtue have important things to discuss.”

Oh no, Tessa thinks. She watches his jaw clench and his hands ball up into fists. A flush creeps up his neck, like when Danny used to hold his things up too high, beyond Scott’s reach, to test him, to get him to use magic to get them back. He never could. 

“I-“ Scott starts but Snape doesn’t let him get a word in.

“Or is this beneath you? Would you like to teach the class yourself?”

“No,” Scott mutters.

“Miss Virtue could provide you with notes, I’m sure. What an advantageous friendship you’ve found for yourself.”

Tessa sees the moment his anger cracks, just before it’s released, before anyone else can notice. She sighs to herself as Scott explodes.

“It’s just the bloody register!” 

Snape, does not lose his cool. He raises only the peak of his left eyebrow. “Five points from Gryffindor for that outburst, Moir.”

One of Scott’s housemates groans quietly. 

“As a reminder to keep your temper in my classroom.”

Scott grits his teeth hard enough that Tessa can hear it and stares down at the table. Professor Snape continues with the roll call.  


* * *

  
After Potions they have to separate for their next class. She goes to Defense Against the Dark Arts and he to Herbology. But they reunite later in the afternoon for flying lessons. 

Of course, Draco Malfoy feels the need to follow her on their way out of Transfiguration when all she wants is to sit down by the lake with Scott in silence until flying starts. It should be no surprise, given her day so far. 

“Virtue, right?” He doesn’t introduce himself. 

“Yeah.” She eyes him, up and down. He’s all scrawny limbs and slicked back, white blond hair. His lumbering cronies follow behind them. Part of her suspects they’re more body guards than friends. 

She curls her hand around her wand in the pocket of her robes and keeps it there. They reach the staircase to the entrance hall and Tessa wonders if she could shove all three down the stairs to make a break for it. Maybe she could use one of the bigger ones as kind of a bowling ball. 

If Malfoy can read her unease, he seems unperturbed by it. “Your father was James Virtue then, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Shame about that.” He doesn’t sound particularly apologetic. 

“Yeah.” Tessa pushes open the front doors of the castle and starts her way across the lawn. Draco, unfortunately, keeps at her side. Ignoring him doesn’t seem to be having the desired effect of making him leave. He opens his mouth to say something more but is interrupted. 

“Tess!” Scott calls, jogging over to them. He stops in front of Draco with a grim expression. 

“Malfoy.”

“Moir.”

Tessa doesn’t like the tone of either of their voices. She tries to shoot Scott a look, to tell him to back off, but he’s not even remotely looking at her. 

“I should really thank you,” Malfoy grins like a shark. “For this morning, that is. If you keep that up, Slytherin won’t have any problem winning the house cup. And an eight-year streak does have a ring to it, doesn’t it Virtue?”

Tessa doesn’t answer him. Red blush is creeping up Scott’s neck. 

“Come on, Scott.” She wraps her hand around his forearm and doesn’t loosen her grip when her nails dig into his muscle. 

“Yeah Scott,” Draco sneers. “Do as your girlfriend says.”

Scott’s got his wand out before any of them realize the escalation. He calls out a spell, thrusts the point of his wand forward, and with a spark from it, Malfoy crumples like he’s been hit. 

Tessa feels the jolt of his hex and rips her hand off his arm. She glares at them both, Scott still standing, a little dumbstruck, and Malfoy, bent over on his knees, gasping, but rapidly recovering. His goons look like it’s equal odds whether they’ll pummel Scott into a bloody pulp, or run away.

Which ends up happening, she doesn’t remotely care as she storms down the hill and across the lawn towards class. She’s so angry it’s a miracle she doesn’t set him on fire through sheer will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to HoldWithThoseWhoFavorFire for the beta! and thanks to all of you for reading this far. I hope you enjoyed it! please let me know what you think :)  
> Also I went on a bit (a lot) of a tangent over on my tumblr (also @sinkingsidewalks) about tessa and scott's wands the other day if you want to check it out (or just say hi!) you can find it (and all other stuff related to this fic) under the tag #VMHPAU


	5. Chapter 5

All through dinner, she ignores his desperate attempts to catch her gaze and he barely manages to pick at his cottage pie. Dean sits beside him and goes on about brilliant flying is but Scott barely hears a word. He stares at Tessa across the room and even though he knows she must be able to feel his gaze, she only looks up from the table to reply to the lanky, dark haired Slytherin girl talking beside her.

He has no trouble staying up for Astronomy that night with Tessa’s stony glare rattling around his skull. He hates it when they fight, he thinks, as he sits slumped in the corner of his common room, waiting with the other dozing first years. It always feels like he’s misplaced a piece of himself when Tess won’t talk to him. 

Usually their fights don’t last, they can’t. Because even if he thinks he hates her one day – he never actually does, probably isn’t capable of it – the next morning they have practice. But now there’s the many stories of the castle built up as a chasm between them. 

_‘I can’t talk to you right now.’_ Is the single, perfunctory sentence she’s said to him since, when he’d sat down beside her at their usual table in the library after dinner in a hushed but no less venomous tone. He’d zipped his lips and stayed at the table anyways, actually for once, doing his homework rather than just trying to distract her from hers. 

He knows that she gets just as angry as he does, though admittedly not as often. Except, where his anger blows outward, explodes in shouting and crashes, hers simmers, collapses, and swallows her like a black hole. It works well for them, on the ice, because she can compress him down, take the grandeur he feels and make it art. But he’s starting to realize that maybe it’s not fair to rely on her like that. 

Still, if only they could _talk about it_ , he would maybe be able to sleep. But Suzanne, their coach, isn’t there to sit them down and play the mediator, and without morning practice, there’s no real reason for them to see each other. It would be entirely possible for her to keep ignoring him forever, or at least until the end of the year. His stomach aches at the thought. He hates that she’s hurting. Can hardly live with the fact that it’s his fault. 

Once he’s finally in bed, and his dorm mates have fallen fast asleep, he dozes between flickering dreams of Tessa skating their programs with some other guy who has suspiciously bleached hair. 

On her way out of History of Magic the next day, he corners her. “Can we talk, Tessa?”

His fingers close around her wrist when she evades taking his hand. A second later she’s ripped out of his grip, shaking her hand out like his touch burned. He tries not to pay attention to how much that hurts. 

“Not now, Scott.”

“Then when, T? Please, I’m _sorry_.”

The rest of Slytherin streams out of the classroom around them, headed to lunch, and she sends her peers furious glances. He doesn’t really care if people listen to them, but she obviously does. There’s a blond streak of Malfoy in the doorway that he ignores.

“Tonight.” She drops her voice down to a whisper. “I’ve got Astronomy, meet me after in classroom 4B, third floor. It’s always empty.”

He nods too quickly. “I’ll be there.”

The rest of the day passes agonizingly slowly. He thinks the clocks might actually be ticking backwards as he sits through a double period of Transfiguration. It’s usually his favourite subject, so far at least. He likes the precision and concentration needed. It’s like skating, power only there through careful control, and even though he can hardly work the spells, he likes Professor McGonagall’s stern but patient instructions. 

But with hours left until he can resolve this thing with Tess, it’s agony. He barely manages to listen to Professor McGonagall’s lecture and when she calls on him, he stumbles around an answer to a question he didn’t hear. 

“Moir,” she calls him after the bell rings. “Stay behind a moment.”

He groans internally and waves to Seamus to tell them to go ahead without him. Once the rest of the class clears the room he steps up to McGonagall’s desk at the front of the room, prepared to be berated. 

“Professor.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Moir.”

A chair appears across from hers and he settles into it. 

“You seemed distracted today, which I can say I didn’t expect. You’re already one of my best students.”

He glows at the compliment but feels even worse about his inattention. “I’m sorry, I guess I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

McGonagall looks at him with intense eyes and he shifts uncomfortably. “I heard about an altercation with Mr. Malfoy yesterday.”

Scott swallows hard. “Yes, Professor.” There’s no use denying it. He did hex Malfoy and he did lose house points for it when Madam Hooch caught them on the front lawn. He also saw the glare on Malfoy’s face when Madam Hooch interrupted his retaliatory spell and Scott knows it’s not the end of it. 

“You should know that we don’t tolerate such behaviour between students at Hogwarts and that the consequences can be quite severe.”

“Yes, Professor. It won’t happen again.”

She stares at him for a long moment but doesn’t tell him he can go so he sits and waits. 

“You have a great amount of talent, Scott. But I suspect that’s not something that’s been told to you in excess.”

“Not,” he thinks of edges cutting into ice and the hushed whispers of adults at the boards. Of the worried looks of his parents when, at four, then six, then eight, he’d barely shown a hint of magical ability. “Not about magic, Professor.”

“Well it’s evident, even from just a week of classes, that you’ve got the capacity for great things. I would hope that you don’t let yesterday’s behaviour get in the way of that.”

“I know. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me but I’m working on it.” He feels like he might be being too earnest, but he wants Professor McGonagall to know that he means it. “I want to do well here. I want to learn as much as I can.”

She nods, and her eyes remind him a bit of Kate, stern, powerful, but forgiving. “It may do you well to avoid figures such as Mr. Malfoy while you get a handle on it, lest it interfere with your coursework.”

He shakes his head and mutters, “it’s not about Malfoy.”

“Oh?”

His hair flops around on his head like he’s trying to shake water out of it. 

“Then what has got your attention tied up today?”

He bites his lip, not sure if he should be sharing this with his Professor. He’s used to talking about Tessa with his mom and his brothers and his coaches, all people who are already aware of their relationship and it’s many quirks. Never in his life has he willingly brought up their problems with so much of a stranger. 

“Does it have something to do with Miss Virtue?”

With a jolt of surprise, he looks up. 

“How’d..?” he trails off.

“We know a little about our students before they arrive. And I think the two of you would have been noticeable regardless. I have to say it’s fairly uncommon to see Gryffindors spending so much time with Slytherins, even in their first year.”

His face screws up with annoyance, then he sighs. “She’s mad at me, because of the thing with Malfoy. She won’t talk to me.”

“That must be difficult.”

“Yeah. Usually when we fight it doesn’t last this long.” He knows it’s only been barely more than a day but it still feels like a century. 

Professor McGonagall has an expression on her face that he can’t read. “You two rely very heavily on each other, don’t you?”

“I promised I’d take care of her.” Years ago, the first time they’d gone to a competition overnight and Kate hadn’t been able to go with them. She’d hugged Tessa goodbye with a squeeze of good luck, then taken Scott into her arms no differently than his mom does and whispered in his ear _‘take care of our little girl,’_ and he’d promised he always would. And now, every time he sees Tessa’s eyes go cold, when she’s hurt but doesn’t want to show it, it feels like he’s failing.

McGonagall nods. “Well, that’s very noble of you. But I wouldn’t worry too much. There are bound to be changes in your friendship as you grow, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be for the better.”

Scott doesn’t like the idea of change but he has to admit that the Professor is probably right. He says thank you, because his mother raised him to be polite, and McGonagall tells him to go off to supper.

Once the other boys have fallen asleep and he reads on his watch that midnight’s passed, Scott creeps out of bed without stirring a soul. The common room is thankfully empty, and he pushes past the snoring Fat Lady without any trouble. Really, he thinks, it should not be quite this easy to sneak out. 

The classroom that Tessa directed him to is empty as promised. He perches on the edge of a dusty desk to wait for her. It’s not more than a few minutes before she’s slipping through the door, hinge creaking in the midnight quiet. 

“Hey.” He whispers, his voice feeling like an intrusion.

“Hi.”

He waits for her frustration to spill out to him but it doesn’t. She stays silent and stock still, her arms folded over her chest and her lower lip caught between her teeth. 

“I’m sorry.”

Her teeth dig in further. 

“Really Tess, I-“ he sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Tessa rolls her eyes like, _duh!_ and he tries to smile to get her to smile. It almost, maybe, works. 

“It wasn’t fair to you.” He brings them back to sincerity for a moment and waits her out. 

She sighs and her hands drop down to her sides. “That doesn’t mean I-“

There’s a creak in the hallway that cuts her off. They both stare at the door. Maybe doing this in the middle of the night wasn’t the best idea. His heart skips a beat and for a second he believes it’s nothing, it’s one of the ghosts. Then the door pushes open. 

Mrs. Norris, the vile caretaker Filch’s cat, stares at them with narrowed, glittering eyes. She blinks once, then bounds off, no doubt to alert her owner to their presence.

“Run.”  
Tessa grabs onto his hand as they flee from the classroom. Not more than a moment after they’ve ducked down another hall does Filch’s voice emanate from where they just fled. Tessa squeezes his hand hard enough to hurt as they run through the hallways, neither paying any attention to where they’re going. 

“Children out of bed is that what we hear?” Filch sounds so gleeful he may as well be singing. His voice follows them around every turn. 

They careen around a corner and straight into a dead end. There’s a single door on the side of the hall. Scott grabs at the handle but it doesn’t give. He rattles it harder. 

“It’s locked!” he hisses in her ear. 

Tessa brushes him aside, her hand still gripping his. “Alohamora!”

The latch clicks open. They tumble into the now unlocked room and shove the door shut behind them. 

“Do you think he’ll find us?” Scott whispers. His heart bangs against his ribs and his lungs heave.

Tessa shushes him with a squeeze of her fingers against his and a shake of her head. 

“Where could they have gone?” Filch asks Mrs. Norris on the other side of the door. “Disappeared now, have they?”

Scott holds his breath, looks at Tessa to see her doing the same, and notices that he can still hear a heavy, wet breathing in the room. 

Filch leaves the hallway, but Scott no longer cares. All he can focus on is the tingle of fear creeping up the back of his neck as he slowly turns to look at the inhabitant of the room they stumbled into. Tessa notices him turn and mirrors him.

Breathing down their necks is a giant, snarling dog. Scott gasps, steps back until his shoulders hit the door, as one, then two, extra heads shift into his view. All three have drooling mouths full of large, sharpened teeth and none of them look particularly happy about Tessa and Scott’s intrusion. 

It’s in the process of pushing up onto four feet and it’s big enough that Scott wonders if it will be able to stand in the room. 

He scrambles for the door, hauls it open and shoves Tessa through in front of him before falling over his feet in his rush to get out. 

“Are you okay?” Tessa gasps.

He nods, jerking his chin to his chest. His stomach is still roiling with fear. He reaches out to take her hand. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

Tessa nods in hurried agreement and they take off again down the hallways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to HoldWithThoseWhoFavorFire for the beta! and thanks to everyone who's been reading so far. I hope you enjoyed it! let me know what you think in comments or im around on tumblr @sinkingsidewalks


	6. Chapter 6

Tessa wakes the next morning hoping that last night was a dream. One look at Scott’s face across the Great Hall at breakfast tells her it definitely was not. He meets her again at her table to go to Potions and it’s like the last two days never happened. Relief sighs its way through her lungs and takes the tension she was holding in her body with it. It’s impossible, when they fight, to think of anything else. However angry with him she gets, the comfort of his presence makes it fleeting. 

They crowd their stools close together once they get to the Potions dungeon and bow their heads to talk, a little bubble of their own making. 

Across the room, Malfoy stares. When she’d passed him in the common room that on her way to breakfast, he’d seemed genuinely surprised to see her there. Tessa has a sneaking suspicion that Filch did not find them last night by accident. 

“What _was_ that?” Scott whispers to her. He doesn’t have to explain. What else would he be talking about other than the giant, three headed dog that is apparently a resident in the castle.

“I have no idea but I definitely want to find out.” She can practically feel her curiosity tingling under her skin. 

“Well what’s it doing there? In the school, with kids, it could attack someone.”

“That was the third-floor corridor, you know, where Dumbledore said we were forbidden to go.”

“Yeah, and with good reason.”

“I wonder what it was guarding.” When she’d gotten back to her dorm, heart still racing in her chest, her mind had replayed the scene on a loop for what felt like hours before she’d managed to fall asleep. Upon her repeated reflection, she’d remembered the shape of some kind of hatch beneath the beast. 

“Guarding?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see it was standing on something?”

He shakes his head. “I was too busy staring at its _heads_. You know, all three of them.”

“Well, it was standing on a trap door. Which means it’s got to be guarding something.”

Scott’s brow crinkles. “It could be _anything_.”

She has to agree; it is Hogwarts after all. Who knows what secrets are kept by these ancient halls?

“We have to find out.” Scott says. For the first time since they decided not to skate, he has that eager look in his eye he gets when he’s determined to win something. 

“We should start-“

Snape enters and silences the room with a glare. She drops her voice below a whisper, breathing in his ear. “Meet me at the lake after classes? By the greenhouses.” 

They need a place where they can talk more freely than in the library, but also somewhere where they won’t be infringing on the territory of either of their houses. A fifth year boy did pointedly tell her the other day about how it had been centuries since someone other than a Slytherin had been in the dungeon common room. 

Scott nods his understanding, then thankfully quiets and turns his attention to the start of Snape’s lecture. 

At lunch, she makes a quick trip to the library to see if she can find anything on the species of the creature but has no luck. She does get caught up in a volume on historical sources of magic and almost loses track of time. When she slides into her seat in Defense Against the Dark Arts moments before class is due to start, Professor Quirrell shoots her a panicked look, like he’s afraid of the prospect of having to berate her tardiness. 

Hours later, she races out of History of Magic ahead of the rest of the class, all but running down the stairs to the Entrance Hall where she throws herself out into the evening sunshine. 

“Tess! Hey, Tessa!” Her sister Jordan bursts through the doors after her and only then does Tessa pause at the bottom of the front steps. 

“Where’s the fire?” Jordan gasps a little for breath as she walks down the steps.

Tessa shrugs. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just wanted to know how your first week is going.” Jordan asks, hooking her elbow through Tessa’s and swinging them as they walk. 

“Okay.” She’s had a fight with Scott, almost gotten caught out of bed after curfew, and nearly was eaten by a giant dog, all in the first week. She wonders if this is typical for Hogwarts. 

“Keeping up in your classes?”

Tessa grits her teeth. “Yeah.” She hates it when people make a point of asking after her magic and her family has never seemed to take the hint to stop. 

“Where are you headed?”

“To meet Scott.”

Jordan nods. “You guys are doing okay with him in Gryffindor?”

Tessa sighs. “It’s hard.”

“I bet. Gosh, the two of you couldn’t have ended up _more_ at odds.”

Her lips twist into a frown. “I don’t see why everybody’s making such a fuss about it. You’ve got friends in other houses.”

Jordan laughs. “Yeah, but Gryffindor and Slytherin have been rivals for as long as anyone can remember. Slytherin’s beat Gryffindor out of the house cup by less than a hundred points for the last three years. None of them like each other.”

“Except me and Scott.” Tessa sighs and peels a strand of hair that’s fallen from her ponytail off her cheek. 

Jordan nods, empathetically. 

“Do you think they’ll ever stop staring?” It’s not like she hasn’t noticed the looks that they attract when they walk together in the castle, her in green and silver, Scott in red and gold. She’d hoped that they’d wean off, once classes started getting busier and they weren’t so novel anymore, but it hasn’t happened yet. 

“Maybe just in time for you to graduate.”

Tessa sighs again, and she must look as discouraged as she feels because her sister gets surprisingly earnest. “Don’t let them get to you. Just keep being your weird selves and tell anyone who interferes to shove off.”

She rolls her eyes. “Thanks, Jordan.”

Scott is lounging on the grass by the edge of the lake when she leaves Jordan, who’s headed to meet Hagrid. He grins when he notices her approach and the last few hours slip off her shoulders. 

“Hey.” She sits across from him, legs folded under her. 

Scott looks out longingly across the lake. The evening sunshine glitters against the expansive surface. “I can’t wait until it freezes.”

Tessa misses skating too. “Me neither.”

“I bet there’s a spell, something that could make ice.”

“Maybe.” She considers it for a moment but then shakes her head. “We could hurt the giant squid though, if it went wrong.” In the Slytherin common room, there’s a wall of glass that looks into the depths of the lake and it’s not uncommon to see creatures of one kind or another peering in at them just like the students peer out. 

“Maybe we’ll have learned something for next year,” she continues.

“Maybe.” He still looks sad. She wonders if he feels homesick like she does. Not badly, but she misses her mum and the car rides back and forth to the rink where she’d doze off, content, to the sounds of the radio and Scott’s breathing.

She takes his hand because she wants to and because it’s comforting. Their fingers lace together automatically. 

“What do you think it’s hiding?”

He shakes his head. “I have no idea.”

“It must be something worth a lot.”

“Or dangerous.”

“Probably both, really.”

“Maybe it’s jewels.” Scott muses longingly.

“Or something like the fountain of fair fortune.” That had always been her favourite bedtime story growing up and even though she knew that the fountain in the story wasn’t magical, it wasn’t impossible for such a thing to exist. 

“Or a dragon!”

“I think someone would have noticed if there’s been a dragon brought through the castle.” Tessa laughs. “Do you think…” She trails off. There’s something she’s missing and it’s right on the tip of her tongue. 

“What?” Scott watches her eagerly. “Where are you going with this T, you’ve gotta keep me up.”

She shakes her head at him. “Thinking.”

Who would hide something at Hogwarts? Dumbledore would be the natural assumption, or someone from the Ministry. But the Ministry has half of underground London to store things, so Dumbledore, or another teacher. 

And, of course, what? What could be so dangerous that it warranted such protection? And how did it get into the castle unnoticed? Because it hadn’t always been there, Dumbledore had made a point at the feast of saying the corridor was off limits, like it was unusual, so it, whatever was hidden and the monster, must be recent additions. But where did they come from?

A memory swims into focus, Hagrid, outside Gringotts, the shape of something in the breast pocket beneath his coat. What had he said, that he was on business for Dumbledore?

What day was the break in?

She still has the Prophet from two mornings ago in her bag, she realizes. She’d been meaning to read it, but between homework and her every thought being distracted by the fight with Scott, she’d never gotten around to it. She digs around for it, half crushing one of her quills in the process, then emerges, victorious.

“Since when do you get the Prophet?” Scott stares at her as if she’d just grown a second head, rather than expressed interest in news.

“Abel gave it to me to read.”

“Abel?” He scoffs, but his bravado tries to hide a more genuine questioning unease. 

“Yeah,” she dares him to have a problem with it. He’s made other friends, so can she. “Abel.”

She unfolds the paper, zeroes in on the article about the break in.

“What day were we in Diagon Alley?” She asks as she skims the article, he’s always had a better memory for dates and details like that.

“August 1st.” He reads over her shoulder. 

Tessa smacks the paper. “So Gringotts was robbed the same day that Hagrid was there for Dumbledore. And this says that nothing was stolen because the vault was already emptied!”

“It could be a coincidence.”

“Or Hagrid took something from a vault at Gringotts and now it’s being kept at Hogwarts, protected by a giant three headed dog thing.”

Scott’s head tilts in thought. “That does make a lot of sense,” he says slowly.

“Too much sense.” She shoves the paper back in her bag and pushes up to her feet. “Let’s go see Jordan.” The sun is setting properly now anyways, they’ll have to head inside soon for curfew regardless.

“What?”

“She’s with Hagrid. Maybe we can get something out of him. Maybe he’ll tell us what he took from Gringotts.”

“Do you really think he’d tell us anything?”

They start up the hill, towards Hagrid’s hut. 

“Maybe not directly, but I bet if we’re sneaky about it we could get him to give something away.”

Scott grins with a glint in his eye and throws his arm around her shoulders. “I like the way you think, Virtch.”

She tilts her head. “Virtch?” He’s had a rotating array of nicknames for her since he learned to talk but she doesn’t think she’s heard this one before. 

He shrugs. “No good?”

“No, no it’s fine.” 

“Then let’s go get some information.” He says it like he’s some character in a movie, all tough and heroic. He ends up sounding more silly than anything else and she laughs from her belly. He shoves her shoulder with his, dejected, then tugs her back into his side.

“That was supposed to be cooler, come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kinda all dialogue sorry about that but it needed to happen. It should pick up again next chapter!  
> Thanks to HoldWithThoseWhoFavorFire for the beta! and thanks to everyone who's been reading so far. I hope you enjoyed it! let me know what you think in comments or im around on tumblr @sinkingsidewalks


	7. Chapter 7

Despite Tessa’s best efforts, the Hogwarts library seemingly contains nothing on the subject of three headed dogs beyond the Greek myth of Cerberus, Hades’ hound which guards the gates to the underworld. The lack of results doesn’t stop her searching though, and every spare moment around her steadily increasing amount of homework is dedicated to either the researching the improbable dog or debating with Scott what it could possibly be hiding.

They don’t reach any conclusion though and any plans they have to find out are derailed by homework or watchful eyes. Before they know it, they’ve been at Hogwarts for two months and they’re no closer to solving the riddle than they were sitting at the lakeside, when Hagrid told them nothing but inadvertently confirmed their theory. 

On the night before Halloween, they sit at the table in the library near the history section that they’ve all but commandeered. Tessa is hunched over her Transfiguration textbook, trying to decode it using the frantic notes she took earlier in class with little actual progress. Meanwhile, Scott has moved on from studying his textbook to trying to balance it on various parts of his body with varying degrees of success.

She groans aloud and digs her hands into her hair. Slamming her head into the table is starting to seem appealing. Maybe if she knocks herself out she won’t have to figure this out. It just makes no sense. 

Scott peers at her curiously, setting his book down. 

“It makes no sense.” She complains.

He reads over her shoulder. “That’s because you’ve got concentration on the wrong side here.” He points, she gazes at him.

“You understand this stuff?” Her stare returns to her textbook. It may as well be written in Latin. She might be able to get more out of it if it were written in Latin.

He bristles with pride. “McGonagall says I’m one of the best students in our year.” He takes her quill and starts rearranging her notes. Suddenly, the words stop looking like a dead language and begin to form actual English. 

Something like dread but isn’t quite pools in her stomach. It makes her feel sick regardless. He’s _good_ at this. He carves understanding out of the chaos with a steady ease, in a way that she can’t fathom. 

She may be second in the class, but she feels like she’s had to claw through a mountain of steel to get even close to the top. That any second there may be an avalanche, which will tear her heavy grip and send her tumbling back down to where she started. Scott doesn’t seem to be having that problem. He floats along, gifted like always, on the one scale she thought they were supposed to be evenly matched.

“It’s just like maths.” He finishes, and she realizes that she hadn’t heard any of what he explained. 

“You okay, Tess?” Worry lines his face.

“Yeah.” Her tongue feels tacky in her mouth, like someone put an enlarging charm on it. “I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

His forehead crease digs deeper. “You sure?”

She stacks her books. “Yeah. I can do this tomorrow. I don’t have Transfiguration again until Monday.”

“Come on T. You can’t do homework tomorrow, it’s Halloween!” He follows her out of the library. Maybe, she’d rather he didn’t for once. 

“There’s all weekend.” She shrugs and watches him worry over her words. Tessa Virtue does not leave homework to Sunday night, where she’ll have to scramble and stay up late to get it done before class. Tessa Virtue does her homework as soon as its assigned, or makes a deliberate plan when to work on it so to ensure that she keeps on top of everything. She knows that he knows this about her. 

He seems too disoriented to prod the topic thankfully as he follows her back towards her common room. 

In the corner of the Slytherin dungeon, Abel sits at a table studying. The third year is hunched over a table, her face hidden by her cloak of long black hair. Tessa hustles over and sits across the table from her. 

They sit for a little while in companionable silence, Tessa doesn’t reopen her books and even though she must notice her, Abel doesn’t say anything. One of the things she likes about Abel is that, unlike so much of their house, she doesn’t feel the need to grandstand at every opportunity. 

“How are you with Transfiguration?”

Abel finally looks up. “Decent. Having trouble?”

She shakes her head at herself. “I just-“

“Virtue!” Malfoy slithers up to the table with a greasy grimace of a smile. He looks down at them. 

He’s been loud about threatening Scott ever since their ill-fated flying lesson but has yet to actually _do_ anything. It’s rapidly becoming tiring. Especially when there are two Prefects sitting by the fire and he’d never dare do anything to her here. 

“Yeah?”

“Tell your Gryffindor,” that’s how most of Slytherin talks about Scott, _her Gryffindor._ “That he’d better watch his back if-“

She glares at him and cuts into whatever uninspired threat he was about to make. “I’m not your owl, Malfoy. If you want him to know, tell him yourself.” 

Ignoring whatever protests Malfoy may have she turns back to Abel. 

“I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Sleep well.”

Abel returns to studying and Tessa sidesteps Malfoy. If he follows, it’s not for more than a step before she’s definitely not fleeing to the safety of the girls’ dormitory. 

Tessa unloads her bag onto the floor and falls to her bed. Her stomach feels in knots. Everything feels off. Malfoy’s insistence on creating a rivalry, Scott’s presence, then sharp absence through her days, her _damn_ Transfiguration homework. She feels like she’s become just slightly off set from the rest of Hogwarts and she doesn’t know how to get back. She shoves herself harder into the bed.

“Hey Tessa.”

Tessa lifts her head from her cocoon of pillows and notices she’s not alone. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode are sitting on Pansy’s bed across the room. Tessa doesn’t doubt that she interrupted some kind of conspiring. 

“Hey.” She manages to smile back at them weakly.

“Been in the library again?”

“Yeah.” Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she studies her dorm-mates, trying to determine their motives.

They haven’t been anything but courteous to her so far, but she still feels justified in her wariness. Both of their families, she knows are full of blood purists. Even though her own lineage is generally considered ‘pure’, the way they talk about some of the muggle-borns makes her uneasy. Especially when her spells start to falter. 

“I swear all you do is study.” Pansy chatters, she’s the talker of the dorm and Tessa would find it infuriating if she weren’t used to the same behaviour from Scott. “I don’t know how you do it, I’d go mad if I spent that much time reading.”

Tessa shrugs. 

“Were you with your Gryffindor again?” Millicent sneers. 

Tessa’s stomach clenches but she says breezily. “Yeah. Scott was helping me with Transfiguration.”

“I don’t know why you’re still wasting your time with him. He’s at the bottom of the class.”

Tessa curls her hand around her wand in her pocket as she tries to keep her anger in her grip. There’s a spark of _something_ burning behind her ribs. Maybe this is why Scott’s so pissed all the time. The anger brings power more easily.

“He’s more talented than his grades.”

She’s not used to having to defend Scott’s talent. When they’re skating, no one ever doubts his ability. It’s always her that the comments about deeper edges and cleaner turns are directed at. 

But her statement isn’t untrue. His grades may have fallen to the bottom of their class during the first few weeks of term when he was distracted by the newness of Hogwarts but he doesn’t seem to be having any trouble rising them now that they’ve fallen into a pattern of classes and studying. 

Millicent looks doubtful. “Still, he’s a _Gryffindor_.”

“So?” Tessa challenges. Both girls look affronted and neither seems to have an answer. 

Tessa rolls her eyes and takes her wash bag into the bathroom. _Let them gossip_ , she thinks. It’ll only make her victory sweeter.

The next afternoon, Tessa sits in a Charms lesson with Scott, focused and frustrated, trying to accomplish a floating charm with the rest of the class. In the last month their lessons have turned from primarily theoretical, taking notes and writing essays, to the practical art of real magic. On one hand, her wrist has stopped aching since she’s no longer got a quill clutched in it most waking hours of the day but on the other, she still feels like something is missing every time she waves her wand. 

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Scott swishes and flicks and nothing happens. He grits his teeth and stares at the long white feather on the desk in front of him.

To be fair, her own efforts have resulted in little more. One attempt had resulted in a flutter, no more than would be caused by the slightest breeze running through the room. But it was a start. 

Of the class, about half have gotten flimsy wobbles out of their feathers, with only one or two achieving actual lift. Tessa _wants_ to be the third. 

Professor Flitwick strolls between the tables. “Now, now, don’t be discouraged. Swish and _flick_.” He claps his hands together, excited as he passes Malfoy who has his feather dangling for a moment before it swoops gently back down to the desk. 

Tessa grits her teeth. Scott tries the charm again. Under the table, she presses her knee into his. 

The response in immediate. There’s a crack of electricity in the air, she can feel it over her skin, that causes more than a few heads to turn in their direction, and Scott’s feather floats up as she says the incantation while her own lays still on the table. He guides it with his wand, floating it towards the ceiling.

Professor Flitwick stares. The room, she realizes belatedly, has fallen entirely silent. 

She pulls away slowly, can feel the moment her magic disconnects and Scott’s takes over keeping the feather up. Every inch of her skin feels red, she’s blushing so hard. 

The Professor is still staring agape. 

Scott’s eyes flick over to catch hers with a degree of panic. They’d sort of agreed they wouldn’t do this. Not explicitly, they hadn’t had an outright conversation about it, but they had seen their families react to it enough to know that it was weird, and they both knew it probably wouldn’t be good to draw attention to it at school. _So much for that,_ Tessa thinks. Half the room is still staring. 

Thank Merlin for Seamus Finnigan who takes that moment to explode his feather into actual fire. Flitwick rushes over, wand ready, and the rest of the class goes back to either trying to levitate or laugh at the bewildered Gryffindor. 

Scott gives her another look that clearly asks what she thinks she’s doing. She shrugs back. 

“What?” she hisses when he still doesn’t stop staring. He shrugs so hard that his shoulders might actually hit against his ears. 

“I just thought…” He does it again and she finds it annoying. 

“Well, you can do it now can’t you?”

He finally stops staring at her to look at the feather that’s resting once again on the desk. Adjusting his grip on his wand he settles his stare against it.

And swish and _flick_. It rises. 

Her own wand moves in her hand and she says the incantation quietly. Without a second of doubt the feather sitting in front of her rises to the point of her wand. Easy. Once the door is unlocked. 

She wonders how much she could move. If the charm would lift the desk as easily as the feather or if she could stretch it to wobble the bookcase across the room off the ground. From her textbook she knows that the charm itself can lift anything but people. Yet still she wonders, with Scott’s hand in hers, what limitations can’t be broken.

But Professor Flitwick did explicitly say they were only supposed to move the feather, so she settles for rising it up further to see how far away she can carry it.

Later, once they’re leaving class, Scott corners her in the hallway.

“Why’d you do that?” He demands.

Tessa glances over her shoulder. The rest of the class is still rushing by, done for the day and no doubt eager to be free from stuffy classrooms. A minute ago, she’d felt the same. Now, she’d rather sit through another few hours of lectures from the incredibly dull Professor Binns than have this conversation with Scott. 

“I wanted to make it work. I don’t see why it’s such a problem.”

“Because you were the one that insisted we had to learn on our own in the first place, Tess.”

He makes an astonishingly good point. She tries to shrug him off again. Things have been tenuous between them since the Malfoy incident but she’s been trying to ignore it. 

“Fine then, I won’t do it again.” 

“That’s not-“

She tries to walk away. 

“Tess!” He rushes after her. “Come on.”

She shakes her head. This time, she actually does walk away. It helps that his Gryffindor friends catch up with him and all but accost him.

“Is that why you’re always hanging out with that Slytherin?” the boy’s voice is high and excited. “Does she like give you magic or something? I didn’t even know that was possible. Is it allowed? Are you gonna get in trouble?”

Scott ignores him. Tessa can’t put enough distance between them in the crowd to not be eavesdropping. 

“How does it work?” the boy continues. “Are you guys like secret siblings or something? What’s-“

“It’s nothing special, okay!” Scott bursts out. Tessa’s stomach sinks. “It just happens sometimes, it’s a fluke, it doesn’t mean anything.”

She thinks, in that moment, that her heart may have just shriveled up and died. Her body turns without her permission and, like always, across any space or crowd, their eyes meet. She watches the painful realization crawl across his face, feeling her own pain spread across hers with no way to hide it. 

He opens his mouth, probably to say her name, but before he can utter anything, she’s whipped back around and is shoving her way through the crowd. 

Of course, Scott follows her. He chases her down two flights of stairs and through another long hallway before she realizes he’s not giving up. She skids to a stop and rounds on him. 

“I’m so sorry, Tess.” He looks as wrecked as she feels and she’s glad. “Please, Tutu I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She sniffles but the tears don’t fall. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t mean it when we both knew that this was coming. I’m always dragging you down.”

“Jeez Tessa, I don’t-“ His fists clench. So does his jaw. 

She interrupts. “It shouldn’t be a surprise, you’ve always been-“

“Would you just listen to me?” he shouts and she goes still.

She wishes she couldn’t read him so well. That she couldn’t see every layer of pain and anger and hurt built up in his expression. But she can. Has always, and will always be able to. It hurts more than she’s willing to admit, his feelings echoed into hers. 

“We made a mistake.” Tessa swallows hard to keep the tears at bay. Her throat aches.

“What?” All of the anger in Scott’s voice recedes at once. His expression softens alongside the clench of his palms and just as it seems like he’s going to reach out for her, she steps away.

“We should never have come here. We should have just stuck to skating.”

Then, because he hates it when she cries, she sprints away down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading if you've gotten this far! Let me know what you think if you feel so inclined. And thanks to HoldWithThoseWhoFavorFire for all her help!


	8. Chapter 8

Scott watches Tessa take off down the hallway yet again and scrubs his hand down over his face. He feels like rubbish. She feels badly, so he does too. It always seems to work that way, in the good moments and in the bad. 

The hallway is deserted. The feast must be halfway through by now. He thinks longingly of the warmth of the Great Hall and the banquet the house elves put together. His hand curls around the back of his neck and tugs at the skin. 

He wants to go after her, but he probably shouldn’t. If he does there’ll be crying, and more yelling, and all manner of Unproductive Communication. If he waits a few hours, lets them both cool off, _then_ tries to restart the conversation, it will almost certainly go better. Or at least that’s what adults were always telling him.

But she’d seemed so lonely. _He’d_ felt alone, the past few weeks and he had the other boys in his dorm to chat with and Danny to look out for him. But he hadn’t had her, not the way they’d been before the Sorting Ceremony. That was supposed to be the best thing about having a partner, always having someone by your side. And now he’d gone and hurt her on top of all that.

He walks off in the direction that she fled from, resolving not to _look_ for her, but also not to ignore any clues that may point to her location. 

After a bit of wandering, he finds a trail of student rushing down the hallway. There’s a tension in the air that he hadn’t felt a moment ago, a feeling of fear and stress. His stomach flips with worry. What if something’s happened to someone? What if something’s happened to _her?_

“What’s happening?” Scott asks no one in particular as he joins the crowd. 

“Troll!” a Hufflepuff shouts to him, panicked. “There’s a troll in the castle.” He rushes off before Scott can ask any follow up questions, though maybe there aren’t that many he could pose. 

There’s a troll in the castle and Tessa’s somewhere, alone, and no one knows where. 

He fights backwards against the crowd, pushing through the rushing chaos. Quickly, the herd thins, though there’s still no sign of Tessa either among them or in the hallways. He meets a fork in the hall, utterly alone. 

“Tessa!” he hisses, peering around one corner, then the other. Where the bloody hell did she go?

He takes a turn and follows a flight of stairs up one floor. Where would she go? Not to her common room or dorm, or the library if she was upset. She’ll have fled everyone, not just him, but he doesn’t know where she goes to be alone here. 

If they were at home, he’d find her curled up with her duvet in her bedroom closet or laying in the weedy grass of the empty lot at the end of their street. He doesn’t know where she’s recreated those spaces at Hogwarts though, and the castle is _huge._

Panic rises in his chest, but he squashes down his thoughts of disaster to focus. She could be anywhere, so he’ll just have to check every room then. He starts pushing open doors as he jogs the halls. 

Voices emerge ahead of him and for a moment hope spikes through his chest. Then he realizes that they are adult and male and decidedly not Tessa-like. He heads towards them anyways; maybe if he can get a teacher involved she’ll be found quicker. 

Around the corner he can see Professor Snape glaring down at Quirrell, their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and he hesitates. This is not exactly the help he was looking for. 

“Ss-Severus,” Professor Quirrell stutters. “I didn’t see you there.”

“As was by design, Quirinus.” Snape steps forward with, Scott notices, a heavy limp. There’s a tear in the hem of his robes and around the corner Scott thinks he might be able to see shiny streaks of blood beneath the cloth. There’s only one thing in the castle capable of doing that kind of damage to as adept a wizard as Snape – the dog. 

Scott inches forward to get a better view, his curiosity piqued. 

Quirrell squeaks, nervous, “I-I don’t suppose you-“

“Came from the third floor? Where I’d imagine you yourself were headed?”

Snape looms in on him and Quirrell’s tremble turns visible. “To ensure the enchantments were in place.”

“Yes.” Snape drawls. “We wouldn’t want the enchantments broken by a _troll_. Of course, it could also be a distraction.”

“W-wouldn’t be a very effective one, mountain trolls are notoriously difficult to control.”

“For _most_ wizards, yes they do pose quite a challenge.”

Scott’s breath catches in his throat. Snape’s insinuation _very_ clear. But why would he need to break past the dog if he wasn’t working against Dumbledore? The niggling of distrust he’s always felt around Snape suddenly feels properly justified.

His shoe squeaks against the floor and Scott shrinks back against the wall as Snape’s head whips around to the sound. He holds his breath as he waits for them to resume. 

“We should return to Dumbledore, of course.” Snape drawls.

As soon as Snape’s gaze turns back down the corridor, Scott starts creeping backwards away from the scene. He doesn’t know what he just witnessed but he’s certain it would be very bad to be caught eavesdropping on it. 

He turns it over in his head as he retreats, intent on finding Tessa to see what she has to say about it. The corridor feels too still as he walks, the earlier rushing of students diminished. He stands completely alone. 

Snape trying to get at whatever is being hidden in the castle should probably come as a surprise, but it doesn’t. He’s had a bad feeling about the Potions master ever since their first week of classes. Not to mention the things Tessa has said about her head of house. 

But to think of one of their professors actively working against Dumbledore? Scott shudders. He can hardly imagine anyone betraying Dumbledore like that, the man is a legend. There’s no way anyone would believe him either, if he came forward and tried to explain what he overheard. 

All the more reason to find out what the dog is hiding. After all, Quirrell is the last person he’d want defending what must be a dangerous secret. There’s no way that the Defense teacher would outlast Snape if it came to blows. 

A shriek spills through the hallway that he knows by the fear in his gut is Tessa’s. Any curiosity he may have about the conversation behind him is cut away. His heart doubles its pace as he sprints off to find his partner.

  


* * *

  


Tessa shrieks. She wishes that she hadn’t, but she can’t help the scream that bubbles up and overwhelms her throat when there’s a crash in the bathroom that apparently came from a hulking, stinking, mass of a _thing_.

_It’s a troll_ , she recognizes a second later. Though what it’s doing in the girls’ bathroom is anyone’s guess. It recoils against her shriek and only then does Tessa realize that she’s in real trouble. 

The troll hunches over so as not to bump its head on the ceiling. It is waving a heavy club with stupid abandon. It’s also between her and the door. It starts towards her again when it seems to realize the screaming part is over. 

Tessa fumbles her wand out of her pocket and wills herself to remember literally any spell other than the enlarging charm.

Then, Scott bursts through the door, panting. 

“Hey!” he shouts at the troll and it swings around, club flung wild as it moves. It shatters the mirrors, but hardly notices, and Tessa yelps, trying to avoid the spray of glass. A shard rebounds off the elbow of her cloaks, but if it cuts, she doesn’t feel it. 

Now it’s staring down Scott. Tessa points her wand. It feels slippery in her hand, like someone coated it with butter. 

“Hey!” she calls, regaining its attention despite the pit of fear in her stomach.

It turns back to her, knocking one of the sinks off the wall. Water sprays wild around the room from the jagged, open pipe. Scott leaps onto the thing’s turned back, one arm locked around its neck while the other pounds at its shoulder ineffectually.

“Leave! Her! Alone! You! Oaf!” he punctuates every word with a hit, but the troll hardly seems to notice. 

The troll raises the club again to swing at her. It shakes its shoulders and Scott goes flying off into the wall. There’s a sickening thud when his body hits into it and for a moment he looks too still. 

Tessa grips her wand tighter against her sweaty palm. She tries to bring back that feeling from class, where everything felt light and she didn’t have to think about it, she could just _feel._

“Wingardium Leviosa!” 

The club rises out of its hand just as the troll goes in for the hit, staying levitated above its head at the point of Tessa’s wand. It looks around dumbstruck and Scott gives a whoop of congratulations even as he’s wincing, getting back onto his feet. 

Tessa flicks her wand downwards forcefully, taking the club onto the troll’s skull with a crack. It sways for a moment, then collapses to the ground. 

“Is it dead?” Scott’s chest still heaves. She wonders how far he had to run to get here. 

“No, just unconscious.” She grabs onto his outstretched hand with relief and allows him to help her over the lumpy mass. “Are you okay?”

He nods, squeezing her palm. “Let’s get out of here.”

No sooner than they’ve left the bathroom behind, along with its occupant, behind does Professor McGonagall appear around the corner in front of them. She’s got a hard look on her face and her wand already drawn in her hand. 

“Moir.” Disapproval colours her tone and Tessa’s already shrinking into herself before her gaze moves from Scott. 

“And Virtue.”

Tessa swallows hard. 

Snape’s not far behind McGonagall. He glares at her too, but harsher, and Scott shifts none too subtly in front of her. Tessa swipes at the tear tracks that have long dried on her cheeks. 

“What do we have here?” McGonagall asks.

Snape seems keen to answer. “Moir causing trouble, no doubt, and dragging Miss Virtue down with him.”

“Hey!” Scott protests. He’s silenced with a glare from both teachers. 

“Scott didn’t do anything.” Tessa huffs. She nudges him in the ribs to move out of his protective stance and he goes but doesn’t relax the hand gripping his wand. 

“I was in the bathroom; he just came to find me. Of course, that was when the troll showed up.”

McGonagall gasps, rushing around them into the bathroom but Snape doesn’t flinch. 

“We knocked it out.” She stares Snape in the eye, for once not blinking when he glares right back. 

“Why exactly were you not in attendance at the feast with the rest of your class?”

She sticks her chin forward, daring him to call out her lie. “I was feeling ill.”

“I see.” His gaze crawls over her like spiders burrowing through her robes. It makes the bottom of her throat taste like vomit. 

“It is unconscious.” McGonagall reappears from the bathroom. “We’ll have to get help removing it from the castle, Severus. The two of you were incredibly lucky.” She turns her disapproval back onto them. “I hope you understand the gravity of what could have happened here tonight, defeating a mountain troll is no easy task, you could have been seriously injured, or worse.”

“Yes, Professor.” Tessa nods. 

“Very well then, off to bed, the both of you.”

Snape says nothing as Tessa takes Scott’s hand and pulls him down the hallway towards the front of the castle. She feels his stare follow them until they turn the corner. 

“I have so much to tell you!” Scott whispers, excitedly, once they’re definitely out of hearing range from the teachers. 

“Oh yeah?” She turns on him, her arms folded over her chest and her teeth dug into her bottom lip. 

He seems to remember the beginning of the evening with a start. One of his hands comes up and he rubs at the back of his neck, uncomfortable. It takes him a second to sort out what to say but once he does the words fall out of his lips hastily. 

“Well, first, I’m _sorry_ Tess. I didn’t mean what I said to Dean, he’s just an idiot who wouldn’t shut up.”

“Uhuh and?” She’ll forgive him, of course, as she always does, but he owes her an apology first. 

“And I shouldn’t have said that stuff anyway because even if you hadn’t heard it, it would still be hurtful and mean and wrong. Okay?” He gives her a hint of a smile, something trying to be hopeful. 

She sighs. “Yeah, okay.”

He pulls her into his side, an arm around her shoulders that grips tighter than usual. 

“I really am sorry.”

“I know, Scott.”

“And you don’t drag me down, Tess. Literally everyone knows that you’re the smart one here, okay?”

“Yeah.” She says quietly. There’s still the sickly feeling of doubt simmering away in her stomach, but it’s not boiling over any more and she thinks that it may just turn out all right. 

“Believe me?” He squeezes her shoulder. 

She hums her agreement, enjoying the warmth of his shoulder under her cheek, where she’s rested her head as they walk. “What did you have to tell me?”

He keeps one arm wrapped around her while the other gesticulates along with his explanation of what he overheard Snape and Quirrell arguing about. He only untangles from her once they’re at the mouth of the Slytherin common room and she wishes beyond anything that he didn’t have to leave her there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Team Hermione could have done more about the troll, so of course Tessa had to save herself here. Sorry updates have been (and are going to continue being) slow, I've got a lot going on right now.  
> Thanks as always to HoldWithThoseWhoFavorFire for fixing all my terrible, terrible grammar!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The great lake has _finally_ frozen over and Tessa does some eavesdropping on her Slytherin dorm mates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shows up three months late with Starbucks and a confession: So I've had this chapter sitting on my computer, finished, all summer but I thought it wouldn't be fair to post it when I genuinely thought I was never going to write the rest of this. But then I had too much caffeine yesterday and wrote nearly 12000 words and now it's sorta almost done so, like, life you know? (although those 12000 words are still pretty rough.)  
> Is anyone even interested in me cleaning it up and finishing this fic anymore? Let me know in the comments or on tumblr (@sinkingsidewalks). I'm thinking about trying to set myself some kind of posting schedule so I actually get it done.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Mid November brings an early cold snap. When Tessa passes through the common room on her way to breakfast one Sunday morning, there’s ice creeping down the glass of their view into the lake. She immediately abandons her breakfast plans and all but sprints back to her room for her skates.

Scott is pacing the entrance hall, fresh snow still clinging to his hair. His giddy smile grows when he sees her, and notices white laces strung over her shoulder. 

“Danny’s clearing us ice.” He’s breathless, his cheeks tingled pink from the cold and she grabs his offered hand. 

“Let’s get going then.”

They tromp through the snow down to the lake where Danny is standing by the shore with his wand raised. More flurries are still fluttering down from the greyed out sky and they melt into Tessa’s hair. 

“Biggest rink we’ve ever had.” Scott says, excited as he falls to the ground, yanking off his snow boots. 

“Nobody in the way either.” Tessa dusts the snow off a large rock by shoreline and perches on the edge of it to pull on her skates.

“I’m not clearing the whole thing for you.” Danny hollers to them. “This smoothing charm is a pain in the ass.”

Scott just laughs.

Tessa finishes lacing and pulls off her skate guards. Then she wobbles over the uneven ground to the edge of the ice where Scott waits. He holds out his hand, takes hers in a dance hold once she reaches him, and together they push out across the pond. 

It’s far better than she remembered. The push of her muscles working the glide of her blades in tandem with Scott, the breeze they create brushing cool over her cheeks, the warmth of Scott’s hand under hers, it all blooms happiness and contentment inside her. She feels at home for the first time in months. 

She looks over at Scott and from the goofy smile on his face, knows that he’s feeling the exact same thing. They round the corner and in unspoken agreement double their pace so they’re flying across the ice except it’s better than actual flying. 

Danny has cleared a roughly rink sized rectangle at the shoreline near the castle and smoothed the top flat better than a Zamboni ever could. He straps on his skates and joins them a minute later. 

“Warm up, yeah?” Danny calls to them. “Then we’ll start with step sequences.”

Scott groans, like he’s put out, but Tessa can see him still grinning. Nothing makes him smile quite like skating and her chest gets all warm and fuzzy seeing it after so long. 

“Let’s get to work.” She squeezes his hand and puts a bit more power into her stroking. He matches her pace instantly.

They spend half the morning equal parts working and goofing off until Scott drops dramatically on his back into a snow pile at the edge of their ‘rink’. 

“I’m starving!” He calls to Tessa who’s fallen into a lazy figure eight at the loss of her partner. “You’ll have to go on without me Tess. I’m just gonna wither away and die here!”

Tessa laughs and skates over. She stands over him, one blade slicing through the snow, easier than a hot knife through butter. “You want to go inside?” She draws out a ‘T’ then the two lines of a ‘V’ with one foot in the snow. 

Scott groans, throwing an arm over his face. “I won’t make it. Tell my mom I love her. Make sure Charlie doesn’t touch my stuff.”

Tessa giggles, and uses her toe pick to draw out an ‘S’ then the flat of her blade for the lines of an ‘M’. “Come on, I bet it’s time for lunch already.”

He perks up, sitting upright. “I could do with a roast.”

“That’s all it takes, huh?”

Scott nods, hauling himself back up to his feet. “Yeah, and my butt’s going numb.”

Tessa laughs and follows him back up to the castle. The entrance hall is a blast of warm air and Scott doesn’t let go of her hand as he shakes the snow off him, leading her towards the dining hall. 

“So what do you think about trying a lift this afternoon? I know we were going to hit the library but…”

Tessa shakes her head. “No, I want to skate.” She’ll be muscle sore tomorrow after so long off the ice, but it’ll be worth it. 

They were going to spend the day researching more into whatever’s being hidden on the third floor. Scott’s eavesdropping having renewed their curiosity as to what could possibly be behind the three-headed dog, and why Snape seems to be after it. They still haven’t made much progress.

“We’re not getting anywhere with it anyway.” Scott says, like usual, basically reading her mind. 

“No,” Tessa sighs. “Maybe we should try talking to Hagrid again, he _has_ to know something.”

“He didn’t exactly seem like he was willing to talk about it.”

Tessa furrows her brow as they enter the dining hall, following Scott through the doors. 

“Maybe we just need to try a different tactic.” She gets caught up in her thoughts for a moment and Scott seems inclined to let her. Then they’re standing at the far end of the Gryffindor table.

“Where have you been, Scott?” One of the boys at the table asks.

“Skating.” Scott answers, dropping his skates onto the floor messily and settles onto the bench at the Gryffindor table. Tessa hesitates. 

He pats the seat next to him. “Sit, Tess, it’s fine.”

She bites her lip and glances over at the Slytherin table. No one’s paying any attention to her. 

“Come on, T. It’s Sunday, nobody cares.” He’s right. She doesn’t even look like a Slytherin wearing leggings and an old muggle sweater from home. 

Tessa looks through the faces of the nearby Gryffindors, Scott’s friends are openly staring at her but the older students sitting around them seem either to have not noticed, or they don’t care. She sits down slowly beside him and settles her skates at her feet. 

Scott’s eyes crinkle with a smile, then he tears into the food in front of them. 

“So you’re Tessa, huh?” One of the boys she recognizes as Scott’s dorm mate says. He’s staring at her pretty intensely. 

She nods and piles roast vegetables on her plate. Now that she can smell the food she’s realized how starving she is as well.

“Shut up, Seamus.” Scott says around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Tessa crinkles her nose in disgust at him and he snaps his lips shut. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Seamus protests.

Scott swallows and takes a breath before saying. “You were gonna.”

Seamus only stays quiet for a second before looking back at Tessa. “So you guys skate, like together?”

Scott groans. “I’ve explained this before.”

Tessa bites into a roll so she doesn’t have to answer. 

“We compete in ice dance, it’s a sport.” Scott says, bored by the obvious repetition. 

“Are you any good?” Dean butts in.

“We’re gonna be the best in the world.” Scott grins and looks only at her. Tessa smiles back and nods a little. 

“No way.” Dean looks at Tessa. She shrugs. She thinks they maybe could be, but Hogwarts is changing a lot. 

Thankfully, the boys get distracted and launch into some funny boy-ness joke that Tessa doesn’t really understand. 

They eat, Tessa works the chill out of her fingers and some of the stiffness from her ankles. It’s nice sitting next to Scott. They don’t really talk, he’s fully in with the chaos that his dorm mates create and she’s just listening, the way she likes it, but they don’t need to. He glances back to her every few minutes, and their eyes meet or he gently knocks his elbow into hers. She knocks back, telling him she’s there. 

By the time they’re back on the ice there are a few more students milling about, mostly older kids who are friends with Danny. Tessa and Scott throw themselves back into skating, ignoring the bit of audience that they acquire in favour of focussing on each other. 

Once the sun starts to set they have to head inside. Her skin’s a little chilled from the outdoors but she’s warm enough inside from skating that it doesn’t bother her. She’s tired down to her bones, in the best way, the way that only a long day of fresh air and activity can bring. 

Scott leaves her in the entrance hall with a broad grin. “Good work, kiddo. Same time next week too, eh?”

She nods her agreement and heads to her dorm room in search of a warm shower and a good night’s rest. The other girls are in the room, piled onto Millicent’s bed but Tessa ignores them as she crashes onto her own, exhausted. 

A smile she can’t help crawls over her face. Skating with Scott was so good. She’d been a little afraid, that after all the other changes in their lives, skating would be different too. But it wasn’t. They were as magical on the ice as they always had been. She already can’t wait until next week, concocting in her mind a list of things they could be working on and areas to improve.

Once she finishes her mental list, Tessa lays on her bed and listens to the other girls in the room. It’s not like she’s eavesdropping, she rationalizes to herself, they’re just not whispering all that well. It’s her room too, if they didn’t want her to hear, they shouldn’t be talking with her there. 

“What did your brother say?” The voice she’s pretty sure is Millicent says. 

“He hasn’t heard anything.” Pansy replies. “But he said he thought that Dad might have been talking about Mr. Malfoy.”

“The Malfoy’s are _doomed_ when _He_ comes back.”

Tessa’s breath catches in her throat. They can’t be. They wouldn’t dare. She shakes her head to herself. Nope, no way are her dorm mates talking about Him. She shudders not even thinking the name. 

“So is Professor Snape.” Pansy agrees. “With how fast he went back to Dumbledore. There’s no way that’s forgiven.”

“ _If_ He comes back.” Daphne mutters.

The girls pause. Tessa’s heart stampedes in her chest. They _are_. She bites on her lip nervously. They _are_ talking about You-Know-Who.

Tessa doesn’t know that much about Him. Whenever He was mentioned, or his followers alluded to, her mom would clam up. Her skin paling unnaturally, Kate would usher her children out of shops if certain wizards were also frequenting them and slip out of conversations should the topic turn to the war. Tessa figures it’s a natural response, especially after her dad’s death. 

Millicent’s tone drips with unpleasantness. “We’ve all heard the rumours. Don’t your parents have the mark?”

“Well, _yeah_.” Daphne says. “But come on, He just _disappeared_. How would that happen? He was the most powerful wizard to ever live.”

“ _Is_.” Millicent insists. “He is the most powerful wizard to ever live. And I bet it was a test.”

“To see who is truly loyal.” Pansy agrees. “To weed out the weaker Death Eaters.”

“So the Malfoys, and Snape, are going to be _screwed_.” Millicent finishes, self-satisfied. Tessa can hear the smirk on her lips. 

“But why would He be gone for _ten years_? That’s ages, surely it doesn’t take that long to reveal his followers’ true intentions. Then to disappear out of nowhere, without a final act, _why_? And without a word to anyone, where could He be?” 

“Albania, apparently He spent time there before he rose to power. I bet He went back.” Pansy says confidently.

“He could be anywhere in Europe.” Millicent agrees. 

“I don’t know…” Daphne says. 

“Do you doubt His power.” Millicent demands, a harshness to her tone that seems far older than her.

Tessa sucks in a breath. 

“Of course not.” Daphne stutters a little. “I would _never_ -“

“Then _don’t.”_

Pansy giggles uncomfortably. “It’s late. We should get to bed.”

They shuffle off Millicent’s bed. Tessa snaps her eyes closed and pretends to be asleep, her heart pounding in her ears.


	10. Chapter 10

By the third Sunday of skating they’ve gathered a little crowd. They’re not the only students out skating since the ice has been cleared, but there are far more milling around near the shore than there are with blades on their feet. 

Tessa looks at Scott, then scans the crowd. Abel waves from her spot sitting against a tree. Danny has his mittens stuffed in his mouth as he laces up his boot. Even Professor Quirrell is there, standing by a far rock, shuddering. 

Tessa tucks her laces in a little tighter and moves out of the sphere of warmth someone’s created at the shoreline. 

Scott shrugs at her, offering his hand. “Ignore them.”

“I know.” She takes his grip. His fingers warm on hers. “It’s just us.”

He grins. 

“And Danny.” Scott’s older brother joins them on the ice. 

“What are you doing just standing around?” Danny always sounds a bit more like a hockey coach than a figure skating one. “Go warm up.”

Tessa can feel eyes following her as they start stroking and when she glances over her shoulder she follows the feeling back to Snape. He stands at the shoreline, away from everyone else, with a dead stare locked on the ice. It feels like it cuts right to her, cold slicing through her muggle sweater. She shivers in response. 

Scott notices and sends her a questioning eyebrow. The sun is shining for once and it’s not remotely cold. 

“Don’t be obvious,” she whispers under her breath like they usually talk about their timing, “But Snape is staring at us.”

His head whips around in a way that isn’t remotely subtle and Tessa cringes internally. If Snape didn’t notice their attention before, he definitely does now. She tugs on his hand and takes them to the far edge of the cleared off rink, putting as much distance between them and the shoreline as she can. 

“What does he want?” Scott spits, a scowl carved into his features. 

“I don’t know,” Tessa says with her own frown. 

“I still think we need to be doing more. The library just isn’t cutting it with this, T. We should go back to the third floor, see what more we can see.” Scott said, continuing the campaign he’d been on all week. 

“And I still say it’s too dangerous. We’re lucky we got away unscathed the first time, I’m not looking to repeat the experience. We could be killed, or _caught_.” 

As it was they were risking expulsion on the regular, every time they lost track of time in the library or the empty classroom 4B, doing homework, or practicing spells, or just goofing off, it was a race against the clock to get back to their common rooms before curfew. Tessa had been on the receiving end of Snape’s glare more nights than not that week, as she’d slipped through the door to the dungeons with minutes to spare. 

She steals another glance over her shoulder. “He’s still staring.”

“Whatever,” Scott mutters. On the ice is never the right time to argue with each other. “Let’s show him.” 

Scott grips her hand tighter and leads them in a wide circle back around to the long side of the rink. Tessa watches their feet through the turn, their blades only an inch apart, and they race past a tiny fissure in the ice. 

They move through lifts, starting with their easiest the ones they’ve been doing for years to warm into it but before long they’re trying out things they’ve yet to master. Scott’s got determination set into his expression and she can feel his focus leech off into her like they’re at a competition. She hits every position like there are judges watching with Scott whispering position changes as they go. 

They’re halfway through a rotational lift, Scott spinning faster than he’s ever dared to before, when she sees out of the corner of her eye that there’s a cracking black mass in the ice ahead of them.

“Scott, stop!” 

She digs her nails into his shoulder and clings onto him as he digs his blades harshly into the ice trying to stop them but she can tell that however strong he is it won’t be enough. 

“Tessa!” His voice is all panic as he tries to push her off, back towards the safe ice, but she holds on to him.

The next thing she feels is her grip on him slip free and freezing water rush up into her lungs. The cold knocked the breath out of her and her own dumb panic made her try to pull in another. Her whole chest burns and the cold has already pulled feeling from her hands, the numbness clawing up her arms. 

She thrashes against the sinking darkness of the water, but her skates tug her deeper and darker into the lake, too heavy for her to swim against. Her arms stretch out, searching for Scott, but he’s suddenly gone. 

The panic that had been numbed by the cold hits her fully. She’s going to die. Scott might already be gone. It will only be minutes until she follows. 

Her vision is clouded over with black splotches, and she can’t tell what’s the shadows of the lake and what’s her own fading consciousness. A shape reaches for her in the darkness and she opens her mouth to scream even though there’s no air left in her to make a sound. The limb wraps around her and pushes up towards the filtering sunlight of the surface. 

Then she passes out. 

 

“Give her space.” 

“Should I get Madam Pomfry?”

“We should get her into the castle.”

“Just wait now a minute.”

The voices sound far away and she can’t quite connect to the feeling of her body. There’s a rock behind her back but she can’t really feel it. 

“Scott-“ she croaks. Her throat burns, worse than the time a few years ago when she was ill and her mom had to take her to a muggle doctor because she had something called strep throat. Scott had given it to her, she’d been convinced; he never washes his hands when he sneezes. 

“Tess?” It’s not Scott who says her name and that ignites a fresh wave of panic that sends her back into her body. 

“Where’s Scott?” The world is too bright when she opens her eyes and it drives a spike of pain behind her eyes. She tries to sit up but that just makes everything worse and her vision go spotty again. 

“Slow down, Tess.” Danny says, his hands hold onto her shoulders to keep her upright. Several people have draped their coats over her but she’s still shivering beneath, despite her clothes having been dried with magic. 

“Right here, kiddo.” Scott mutters, sounding as disoriented as she feels. Her heart finally slows down with a flood of relief. He’s hunched over a few feet up shore from her, his own huddle of people around him. 

She can’t see Snape though. 

“We should get them up to the castle,” someone repeats.

Danny shakes his head. “Hagrid’s is closer. They’ll be able to warm up there.”

“What happened?” Tessa croaks as Danny helps her up to her feet. Scott is right there beside her and she takes his hand to reassure herself he’s really there. His fingers feel like icicles. 

“Ice cracked,” Danny explains. “Right out from under you two. The giant squid pulled you up, good thing too with how fast you were sinking.” There’s a deep frown carved into his features. He was the one who checked the density of the ice before anyone went out. 

“Wasn’t your fault.” Scott says definitively. He gives Tessa a meaningful look as they walk towards Hagrid’s. 

She knows what he must be thinking, how suspicious he’s been of Snape. Put together all of Snape’s suspicious activity and the intensity he was watching them skate, it isn’t an unreasonable assumption that he was involved with the ‘accident.’ She tilts her head in half a nod back to him saying she understands. 

Danny interrupts their silent conversation by banging on the door of Hagrid’s hut. The door opens and Fang, Hagrid’s dog that more largely resembles a small wolf, comes bounding out. 

“Danny Moir!” Hagrid crows. “It’s been a minute since I’ve seen you.”

“Hagrid.” Danny takes a friendly slap on the shoulder that almost knocks him over. “These two took a spill in the lake, could they warm up with you for a few minutes?”

“Of course, of course.” Hagrid pulls aside the door.

Tessa goes straight to the roaring fire. It’s burning so big it’s almost spilling over the grate. She looks closer at it and finds something engulfed in the flames. 

“Hagrid _what_ is in your fireplace?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He shuffles them away from the blazing fire to his kitchen table and pours steaming mugs of tea. Tessa takes a sip, finding it so bitter it makes her teeth ache and she struggles to swallow politely. 

“It was Snape.” Scott says, taking a big mouthful of his own tea then obviously regretting it. His face scrunches in disgust and she mentally implores him not to spit it out. He swallows, but just barely. 

“Snape cracked the ice,” Scott continues. “He tried to kills us.”

“That’s a real accusation you’ve got there, not to be taken lightly.” Hagrid lays out a plate of biscuits that look more like stones. 

“It _has_ to be Snape. He’s had it out for Tess all year _and_ I overheard him with Professor Quirrell, he was trying to get to whatever Dumbledore has hidden behind the three-headed dog.”

“He was staring at us pretty intensely. And I’ve read about curses, the most important thing is that you maintain eye contact.” Tessa wraps her hands around the mug to warm them. 

Hagrid shakes his head, disapprovingly. “You kids shouldn’t be looking into that. It’s Dumbledore’s business that is, Dumbledore’s and Nicolas Flamel’s. It’s not for children to be meddling in.”

“Nicolas Flamel?” Tessa’s interest piques. She’s heard the name somewhere before but she struggles to remember where. 

Hagrid freezes. “I should not have said that. Nope, I definitely should not have told you that at all. Don’t you be taking this as encouragement now. I meant what I said, it’s dangerous business.”

“Right, of course.” Tessa jumps up off her chair and pulls Scott with her towards the door. “Thanks for the tea, Hagrid!”

Fang barks belatedly and the door bangs shut behind them.

“Where are we going?” Scott calls as Tessa pulls him up the hill back to the castle. 

“To the library of course! We need to find Nicolas Flamel, he’ll be the key to solving everything!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking that doing a Sunday/Wednesday upload schedule on this fic since the chapters run so short. I should be able to manage it but feel free to come yell at me on tumblr (@sinkingsidewalks) if I happen to forget.   
> Thanks so much for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving seeing you guys figure out where I'm going with this bit by bit. Thanks so much to everyone who's still reading and commenting, I'm glad you're having as good a time with this story as I am. Also I'd like to apologize for the totally inappropriately placed pop culture reference in this chapter, but I just couldn't resist. Internet points to anyone who catches it lol

It’s almost two weeks out from Christmas and they still haven’t found any mention of Nicolas Flamel in the Hogwarts library. Scott has once again given up on the books. He’s determined to convince her of reckless action as they sit at their table in the library, heads hunched together before morning classes. 

“I just don’t think it’s there, Tess.” He says, glancing over his shoulder weary of errant eavesdroppers. 

“It _has_ to be. I know that I’ve read the name before. And there’s nothing that Mum has at home that wouldn’t be in the library here.”

Scott pauses. “There is.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hogwarts it the best curated magical library on this side of-“

He shakes his head to cut her off. “If you don’t count the restricted section, there is.”

She scoffs. “Mum doesn’t have anything like that.”

He looks at her, then does another double check over his shoulder to the next table over. He must consider them safe because he whispers, “Dad does.”

“What?” she hisses, throwing her own glance over her shoulder. There are some Hufflepuffs two tables away but they’re too far to be able to overhear. She keeps whispering anyways. “What could he possibly have that would be put in the restricted section?”

Scott shrugs. “Old stuff. Family stuff. Stuff from the war.” He shrugs again, too casual for her liking. “You know.”

Both their fathers came from old wizarding families so she shouldn’t be that shocked about there being left-overs from eras gone by. It would surprise her though, if Joe showed Scott those things himself. Alma is a muggle born and he is always the first to defend any wizard against blood purists. 

Her own father, she knows, disavowed the rest of his family when he married her mom, a half-blood. They’d been the fanatics that Tessa sees so much of in Slytherin house. But she’d never met any of them, hadn’t even ever heard their names.

Tessa stares him down, her heartrate rising towards her throat. “No, I don’t.”

“Come on, Tess. It’s not like it’s _bad_. Just a little dark.”

“Dark magic _is_ bad.” She grits out through her clenched teeth. That she is absolutely sure of, there are the gravestones to prove it. 

“Well only if it’s _used_ with bad intentions.” His voice grows too much in his emphasis and Madame Pince sends them a withering glare. He winces and mouths an apology to her. 

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Tessa mutters an odd ache building in her throat that feels halfway to tears. “I’ve got to get to class.”

She snatches her wand off the table and flees the room. Only once she’s halfway to class does she notice something different in her grip. She looks down. Holly. Scott’s wand. She must have picked up the wrong one in her hurry. 

She considers going back and switching with him but facing him again so soon makes her stomach twirl. He’d probably try to apologise and she can’t quite listen to it yet. With a disappointed sigh, she pockets the wand awkwardly and heads to her first class.

After that her whole morning goes downhill. History of Magic is mostly fine, it doesn’t involve much wand work, just notes on the goblin rebellion of the 18th century. At the end of the lesson, she tries to levitate a heavy textbook back up into its place on the shelf, as she normally would. Instead of neatly filing into the open slot, the book flies all the way up to the ceiling, then slams down atop the bookshelf, too high for her to even think about reaching on her own. 

Millicent shoots her a dirty look but moves it back into place for her. Tessa can’t help but notice that her charm wavers by the end. Her own, if she had her wand, would be perfectly steady.

Defense Against the Dark Arts is even worse. She leaves the classroom trying to roll the ache out of her wrist that feels like it’s burning through her skin to the bone. Quirrell spent the whole lesson dodging her free-flying spells with a look of utter fear on his face, like he wasn’t brave enough to get close enough to her to ask what was going on.

“Virtue,” Malfoy drawls, stepping up beside her. He’d obviously been waiting, leaning against the wall, for her to come out. 

She ignores him. His goons aren’t with him for once but Millicent is lingering with the other girls. They all follow as Tessa heads to the library. She’d been using her lunch breaks to skim through more books in search of Nicolas Flamel.

“It looked like you were having some trouble today.”

She stares at the stones in the floor as they come up under her feet. Today is not the day to curse him, she doesn’t know what would happen with Scott’s wand in her hand. Millicent steps up on her other side, effectively boxing her in. Tessa keeps walking forwards like it doesn’t bother her at all.

“Need your Gryffindor to come fix your magic for you again?” Millicent smiles like a shark, all teeth. 

Instead of answering, she plans out what she could do to them. She could put itching powder in Millicent’s underwear, like the older girls did to each other at the rink before competitions sometimes. She could turn just one spot of hair right on the back of Malfoy’s head bright pink. No one would ever be brave enough to mention it to him.

Draco sneers. “You can’t do any magic on your own can you? You’ve got to steal it all from him, you may as well be a squib.”

Anger burns hot under her skin but she pushes past them into the library. They don’t follow through the doors, knowing Madam Pince would tell them off for talking. Tessa sits down at her and Scott’s usual table, content to wait out lunch period. 

Finally, Scott sits down beside her in Potions that afternoon and puts her wand on the table as a peace offering. Having it back in her hand is like a fresh breeze off the sea on a stifling summer day. 

“Your wand hates me,” she mutters, pulling his out of her cloaks and passing it over. 

“Yeah, well yours isn’t so cheery about me.” He wraps his hand around the Holly with a satisfied nod then turns to her sobered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that stuff this morning. I know you don’t like talking about it.”

She shrugs. It bothers her Mum, so she supposes she picked it up and combining that with the ease with which the rest of her house talks about dark magic, it shouldn’t be surprising that she’s extra sensitive on the matter. 

“It’s okay.”

He nods back, considering the matter closed and moves on. “Mum and Dad and Danny are going to visit Charlie in Romania for the holidays.”

“Oh.” Tessa’s stomach drops. She doesn’t want to go home for Christmas. Jordan hasn’t the last few years, and with her brother’s both out of the house, spending the holiday alone with just her Mum is a little depressing. 

“But I was thinking I’d stay at Hogwarts, you know, if you were gonna.”

She can’t help the grin that overtakes her face. “Yeah. I think Jordan and I are staying. You know how Christmas gets…”

Maybe once upon a time her family could embrace a happy Christmas, but not since her Dad died, and Tessa was too young when it happened to remember anything before. 

Scott nods, understanding. His holidays too were tinged with the loss of Jim Virtue. Their dads had been best friends at Hogwarts. 

“I’ll put my name down to stay then.” He says like it’s nothing and he fills her heart up again, so easily even after the animosity of the morning. 

“We should make a plan,” she whispers to him, going backwards in the conversation.

“For what?”

“To get into the restricted section. I bet all the teacher will be off their guard over Christmas. I bet we could find a way to sneak in.” 

Scott grins at her. He loves it when she gets them into trouble. But as much as she needs to keep her head down and stay off Snape’s and the other Slytherin’s radar, she wants to know what’s under that trap door more. 

“I’ll start coming up with options,” he says as Snape walks into the classroom. His grin turns to a scowl at the teacher and they both sink silently into their work, Scott with gritted teeth beside her. 

 

For the rest of the day Scott has ideas about how they could sneak into the restricted section of the library. In class, while they’re working together to brew a potion meant to cure boils, he walks her though an elaborate plan to distract Madame Pince.

On their way to supper, he wants to start a fire as a distraction. She stares at him with abject horror and hisses, “ _Burn? Books?_ ”

“Blue flames Tess!” He insists, “no damage done!”

His plans only get more and more outlandish. By the time they’re walking out of the Great Hall she’s basically ignoring him, shooting one walking disaster down after the other. She manages to convince him to definitely hold off until the holidays start, and the rest of the school goes back home. 

“We’re not doing ‘get help,’” she grumbles as he follows her back to her common room after an hour in the library after dinner. She’s always the one who has to pretend to faint while he gets to be the hero because of the ‘believability’ of it. Like he didn’t puke when a two girls at the rink collided and one got her arm split open by the other’s blade. 

“Okay, but consider-“ he cuts off. They’re in the entrance hall and Draco is standing at the mouth of the stairway to the Slytherin dungeon. 

“Malfoy.” 

“Moir.”

Tessa rolls her eyes, distinctly annoyed with Scott’s bravado and encountering Draco twice in one day. She wants to ignore them both and head to bed, but she can tell that Scott has his hand on his wand in the pocket of his robes. While she doesn’t approve of his attitude towards Malfoy, she also won’t leave him to defend himself alone. 

“Waiting up for your lackeys, Malfoy? Are they late home from threatening some Hufflepuffs? You know it wouldn’t surprise me if they got a bit lost.”

Draco sneers, “Just making sure Virtue remembers where the common room begins, wouldn’t want a Gryffindor tainting _our_ space.”

Tessa shoves Scott’s shoulder lightly as his jaw clenches. The two of them fighting, here, now, would only end with everyone in trouble. “You should get back to Gryffindor Tower. It’s late.”

“Right.” Scott takes a slow breath and backs off. “Wouldn’t want to lose house points.”

“I know what the two of you are up to.” Draco’s beady eyes flick to Tessa and back. “You’re going to get caught.”

“You’ll make sure of it, right Malfoy?” Scott jeers. “Because you were so effective last time.”

They’d agreed that the night they ran into the three headed dog, it had been Draco that tipped Filch off to their being out of bed. 

A red flush of anger crawls up the back of Draco’s pale neck. “I will find out-“

“I thought you already knew.” Scott cuts off, stepping forward threateningly. 

Malfoy glares. Scott’s wand arm tenses and Tessa prepares to grab her own but before any of them can cast a spell the door to the dungeons opens.

“Trouble, Mr. Malfoy?” Professor Snape asks, bored. 

“No,” Scott answers, taking a step backwards. 

Tessa shakes her head. “We were all just headed to bed.” She steps around Scott, between him and Draco, to stand in front of where Snape stands in the doorway. At the same time, Scott turns to leave. 

Snape stares at them all a moment longer before shaking his head and disappearing back down the stairs. Tessa stands on the top step until Scott must be halfway to Gryffindor, then leaves Draco alone in the empty hallway.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmastime at Hogwarts

On Christmas morning, Tessa wakes smiling. The air is clear and quiet without her roommates present and light streaks through the window across the room. At the end of her bed there’s a pile of packages, left there in the night by the house elves.

She gathers up everything that she can and slips out of the common room. It’s mostly empty, and those who are up are still half asleep so her getaway is easy. She trots down the hallways to the perpetually empty classroom 4B on the third floor. Last night she and Scott made a plan to meet up, so that they wouldn’t have to open their presents alone. 

“Merry Christmas, T!” Scott shouts as she enters the classroom and she shoots a worried look over her shoulder to check Filch hasn’t followed her. Scott barrels into her, unconcerned as he wraps her up in a big hug. 

“Merry Christmas.” She squeezes him back, then drops her pile of gifts next to his. 

They take turns opening packages, one by one. Scott gets a woolen sweater from his mother and dungbombs from Charlie and Danny. Tessa opens a matching jumper from Alma and a beautiful leather bound notebook from her older brother. They pile up their gifts, exclaiming over each one. 

Then there’s only an odd one left for her. She tears open the note card, curious since she doesn’t recognize the handwriting on the front. 

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well._   
_Merry Christmas_

Tessa stares at the note. 

“What?” Scott garbles around a chocolate he’s already crammed into his mouth. 

She shoves the note card at him and stares at the package like it might grow claws and attack them. 

“Oh.” Scott looks at the package now too. “Are you gonna open it?”

“Why would it be returned to _me_? Why not to Kevin or Casey or even Jordan?” She can hear her voice getting higher and higher as she speaks but she can’t bring it back down to a normal tone. 

“I don’t know, Tess.”

“I was only a baby when he died. I didn’t know him. What good would something of his do me?”

“Tess.” Scott says softly. She realizes that she’s near tears. She scrubs at her eyes and lets the notecard fall between them. Scott takes her hand. 

“Are you going to open it?”

“Don’t I have to?”

He shakes his head. “You could give it to Jordan.”

Tessa shakes her head. Jordan remembers their father. She was just old enough when it happened to be properly devastated by the loss. Tessa can’t reopen those wounds, not when it could be for nothing. 

Taking a deep breath, she rips the paper off the package revealing a long, glimmering cloak. It’s silky, slipping through her fingers and while it’s beautiful, she doesn’t have the faintest clue why someone would go through the trouble of returning it to her after all these years. 

Scott picks it up with equal fascination and wraps it around his frame. Tessa gasps.

“What?” He looks at her then looks down. His body has disappeared, leaving his head floating, shoulderless.

“It’s an invisibility cloak!” she cries. Then she’s up on her feet, pulling it off Scott and over her own head. He looks as dumbstruck as she feels. 

They spend the rest of the morning prodding at the cloak and leisurely going through their gifts. Scott transfigures the wrappers from his chocolates into multi-coloured butterflies that drift up lazily to the ceiling and cling to the lights. 

At midday they head down to the Great Hall for Christmas dinner and Tessa hugs Jordan tightly, thanking her for the locket she’d given Tessa. It was a little gold heart with magic pictures inside of Tessa and Scott skating, one of them perfecting a lift, the other of them goofing off in practice. 

They all sit down together at the Ravenclaw table, the lines between houses have never been so blurry, especially with most of Slytherin gone home, and dig in to the Christmas feast. Tessa doesn’t mention the cloak even though Jordan’s right beside her.

On her other side is Scott, of course, and across from them, taking up the space that would normally be two seats, is Hagrid. Jordan is drilling him, even though it’s Christmas, on the next terms Care of Magical Creatures lessons. 

Scott, is ignoring them completely, talking to a Hufflepuff boy on the other side of him about Quidditch. While Tessa stays stuck in the middle. She picks away at her plate long after she’s eaten her fill, listening with half an ear to each conversation. 

Scott predicts the Chudley Cannons will have a good season and Jordan asks how best to contain fire crabs. 

“Every beast has a charm. Some little trick or quirk that has them eating out of the palm of your hand, rather than _eating_ the palm of your hand, ye know.” Hagrid laughs roughly. “Take Fluffy for example, I’ve told you about Fluffy before right?”

Jordan purses her lips. “That’s the _hound_ , right?”

Tessa’s ears perk up. She kicks Scott, who is elbow deep in his puddings, under the table and he jars. She shoots him a look to keep quiet then pointedly looks to Hagrid. 

“You bet. Well Fluffy, most would think, is a wizard-eating beast. He don’t like strangers, Fluffy, and he’s got a bit of a habit of being aggressive with them. But play him a bit of music, and he falls right to sleep no trouble. That’s really the trick to good Magical Care, it’s just finding the right trick for each creature.”

Tessa grips onto Scott’s arm, and he winces when her nails start to bite in. 

“I think I’m going to head up to bed.” She says, bubbling with excitement and fear and doing a terrible job at trying to hide it.

“Me too,” Scott adds, his voice too loud to be casual. “It’s been a long day.” He punctuates it with a terribly faked yawn. 

Jordan rolls her eyes at them, used to all of their nonsense. “Okay, see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight. You too Hagrid.” Tessa says, pulling at Scott’s arm to get him off the bench at the table. 

“Nice to see you kids, and Merry Christmas.”

They exchange a hurried round of well wishes then Tessa’s dragging Scott out of the Great Hall by his elbow. In the entrance hall, there are a couple of older Ravenclaws lingering.

“I’ll walk you up to Gryffindor.” Tessa says, and keeps pulling him up the stairs. 

“That has to be the dog, right?” Scott exclaims once they’re alone in a hallway. “The one guarding the trap door.”

“Definitely.”

“That’s awesome!” Scott says. “Now we know how to get past him, and we’ve got an _invisibility cloak_! We should go tonight!”

“Go where?” Tessa asks. 

“To see what it’s guarding, of course.” 

“Are you crazy!?” She exclaims, her voice echoes off the walls and she cuts her tone down to a harsh whisper. “Do you want to get us killed? We don’t know what it’s guarding, what other protections might be in place, or who Nicolas Flamel is and what it even has to do with him. We don’t know _anything_. We can’t go down there.”

Scott pauses. “Don’t you want to know?”

Tessa rolls her eyes. “Obviously, but we can’t just go break into whatever that trap door is. Not without a plan.”

“But if Hagrid told Jordan how to get past it, I can’t imagine Snape would have all that hard of a time getting it out of him,” Scott says, frustrated.

“I know.” Tessa puts her hand on his arm to try to keep him from getting angry. “But he can’t know everything yet. We’ll find Nicolas Flamel, we’ll find out what’s been hidden, then we’ll talk about what to do about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Scott sighs. They keep walking again. 

“Besides,” Tessa says. “Dumbledore is in the castle, he wouldn’t try to steal anything from right under the headmaster’s nose.”

 

The holidays pass slowly. With the aid of the invisibility cloak, getting into the restricted section of the library is accomplished with ease. Except they still find no record of Nicolas Flamel in any of the books they can flip through in the shadowy light, between patrols of wandering teachers. 

Every night Tessa dons the invisibility cloak in her empty dorm room, creeps through Slytherin dungeon and into the darkened corridors of the castle, then goes up to Gryffindor tower to get Scott. Together, they then make their way to the library and delve into the books with absolutely no results. And when Scott’s eyes start to drop as he reads, Tessa leads him back up to the tower to go to bed. 

Sometimes she goes back to the library after, sometimes she walks around the castle hallways in the dark, looking for something, but she doesn’t know what. 

Four days after Christmas Tessa shuffles Scott through the Fat Lady’s portrait then follows the hallway to a staircase that will take her away from the tower. The floor below has the Transfiguration classrooms and Professor McGonagall’s office, but the one below that is fairly empty, so she leaves the stairs to wander. 

She’s always had a pretty good sense of direction, but Hogwarts pushes her memory to its limit. She thinks she could wander the hallways every night for a whole year and she’d never see them all. 

The cloak drags on the ground behind her without Scott there to hold it up and she hopes she’s not leaving a trail for someone to follow. The floor doesn’t seem dusty, but in the dark it’s hard to tell. Even during the holidays, Filch is still prowling the castle, looking for anyone getting into trouble.

Tessa doesn’t want trouble though, she just wants to have some space to herself for once. 

She freezes when she hears a voice carrying through the hallways. The tall, sturdy arches of stone make it hard to tell where sound is coming from or going to. She creeps forward, to the fork in the paths and chooses the one on the right.

It’s the wrong decision. Now, in the path in front of her is Filch. Mrs. Norris weaves between his feet, a shadow bouncing through the glow of lamplight spilling over the hallway.

She turns around. Stepping as lightly as she can, she goes down the opposite fork and ducks into an empty classroom. Fear runs through her as she listens to Filch disappear down the hallway. Even though she’s got the cloak she still doesn’t entirely trust it. Something in the back of her mind wonders if it’s too good to be true, if it will just up and disappear, leaving her exposed, when she needs it most. 

The classroom, she explores to find, is not as empty as she first thought. At the back of the room is a tall gilded mirror, iron lattice wraps around the edges of the expansive glass. The thing is almost half as wide as it is tall and it stretches halfway up towards the ceiling.

She steps in front of it, letting the cloak fall away, and looks inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're getting into all the little cliffhangers, sorry but not really. Any bets on what Tessa sees in the mirror? You'll find out sunday!   
> Thanks so much to everyone who's still reading! I'm around on tumblr @sinkingsidewalks


	13. Chapter 13

When Scott wanders down to the common room one morning of Christmas break he expects to have a leisurely morning before heading down to breakfast, knowing that Tessa won’t be there until late after another night of searching through the library. He knows she’s going back after she lets him out of the robe at the Gryffindor common room. 

He almost wishes that she’d give up, as curious as he is about the whole thing, he doesn’t want her getting into any trouble. Either with Filch or with whatever dangers lurk beyond that trap door. 

His plans are disrupted when a sixth year Gryffindor, one of the boys that he doesn’t know, taps his shoulder to get his attention. 

“That Slytherin friend of yours is asleep in the hallway.”

“What?” Scott shoots up from the couch and doesn’t bother staying around long enough to hear whatever the explanation is. 

Sure enough, slumped against the wall just outside the fat lady’s portrait, Tessa is curled up, fast asleep. 

“Tess,” he whispers, shaking her shoulder. She jolts into consciousness. 

“Scott!” She says, then darts her gaze around them. When she finds they they’re alone she whispers, “I found something incredible.”

He crawls under the cloak with her even though it’s morning and follows her through the maze of empty classrooms. He has no idea how she finds all these things; with what time she’s charting out the castle. But she leads him confidently enough that he won’t ask if she knows where she’s going. 

Eventually they get to a dusty room, at first it doesn’t look like there’s anything inside. Then she leads him to the back of the room where there’s a tall, glass mirror. She pulls the cloak away from them and positions him in front of it. 

“Do you see it?” She whispers, her hands hot on his back through his jumper, bubbling with excitement. 

His brow furrows as he looks into the glass. Standing around him in the image is not just Tessa, but his parents and brothers, and her parents and brothers and Jordan. He looks around him, but it’s just the two of them in the room. 

“This doesn’t make sense.” He whispers, even though he can tell she’s not really listening to him. In the mirror, Tessa wraps her arm around his waist and he hugs onto her shoulders, like his parents do sometimes when they’re just standing in the kitchen. 

“I think it tells the future.” She’s almost bouncing on the balls of her feet, still wearing a loose violet sleep shirt. He wonders if she ever went to bed. 

“But-“ He looks from the mirror to her then back again. “But it can’t, Tess.” There’s one familiar face that he can’t stop staring at, the one he’s only ever seen in pictures before, although he looks aged in the glass like he lived to see this day. 

“Your dad’s dead, Tess.”

She stops, rock solid on her feet all of a sudden, like a weight’s crashed over her. “What?” Her voice is barely a whisper. “You see my dad?”

“I mean.” His gaze darts back and forth between the two images, Tess, living and breathing in front of him, and their families, seemingly just as real but caught by the glass. “Isn’t that what you see? All of us together?”

She shakes her head so hard her hair spins out around her. “I see us skating, at the Olympics, gold medals around our necks on the podium.”

She looks like she’s about to cry and he would do anything to stop it. 

“I’m sorry, Tess, please.” He tugs her in for a hug and she sniffles into his chest. He still has no idea what’s going on but he wraps his arms around her back and breathes in the musty smell on her hair from sleeping in the corridor. 

“I don’t understand,” she whispers into his sweater. “Why do you get to see him but I don’t?”

“I don’t know Tess.” He rubs her back. Thankfully, she sounds more confused than upset at the moment. “But I don’t think we should be here.”

She sniffles roughly in her determined-not-to-cry way and picks herself up off his chest. “Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right. It was locked away for a reason.”

“Right.” He nods. “Yeah.” He throws the cloak back over them both, and holds her hand beneath it as they make their way back to the center of the castle.  


* * *

  
Tessa goes back to the room and the mirror the next night even though she tells Scott that she won’t. In fact, she goes back every night for the rest of Christmas break, searching each time through the glass for a glimpse of her family. The mirror never relents. 

There’s something in the draw of it that pulls under her skin. Even though she tells herself each night, when she faces defeat, that she won’t return, she can’t help but wander to it again once darkness fades in and she’s left Scott at the Gryffindor doorway. 

On the night before term starts she slips into the classroom with an easy _Alohamora_ to the lock and finds it’s not empty. 

“Come, Miss Virtue,” Professor Dumbledore says. 

Tessa freezes in her shoes. She briefly considers making a break for it, but if he knows it’s her, then her only denial is her word. Which is not worth much against one of the greatest wizards to ever live. 

She lets the cloak slip off her frame and bunches it up beneath her robes. Her only hope is that he doesn’t confiscate it. She doesn’t know what she’d do without it now. 

It’s only been a few weeks but she doesn’t really know how she navigated Hogwarts without it. It’s the first thing she’s ever had of her father’s that she can hold in her hands and when it’s thrown over her, it feels like he’s what’s shielding her from the rest of the world. 

Dumbledore steps aside from the mirror and Tessa walks up to him.

“What is it that you’re searching for?” he asks. 

Tessa stares into the mirror and sees the same thing she’s always seen. In the glass, there’s a skating rink which she and Scott are flying across. They’re older, but not old. She has on a silky white dress and his shirt billows with their movement. The program ends, to music she can’t hear and they finish with her in his arms, kneeling on the ice, their lips inches apart as they turn their faces to the sky . That bit makes her stomach twist with butterflies no matter how many times she watches it. 

Then, the scene shifts and they’re standing on a podium in first place. Scott’s gripping her hand so hard eleven-year-old her can almost feel it and there’s a man putting gold medals around their necks. 

She turns to Dumbledore. “It doesn’t tell the future.”

“No,” he says contemplative, staring at his own reflection. “It does not.”

Tessa’s desperate to know what he sees but she figures it would be impolite to ask. 

“Then what does it do?” she asks when she realizes he won’t divulge the answer on his own. 

“The Mirror of Erised shows not the future or the past, but rather it shows the viewer the object of their greatest desire. What they wish to be true in their heart of hearts, beyond any whim or fancy, in perfect form. It is, above all else, the greatest weapon ever to be held in Hogwarts’ halls.”

“Weapon?” Tessa asks, peering at the mirror again. It looks just as innocuous as it’s seemed for the past week of nights. Just glass and metal and a bit of magic somewhere between. Surely the beast hidden in the castle is more dangerous.

“Yes, weapon. Many great witches and wizards have lost their lives to it, caught in its web, wasting away to its illusions.”

He sighs, and turns away entirely from the glass. “The mirror will be moved to a new location in the morning. I would urge you, Miss Virtue, never to seek it out again. The great future you desire can only be achieved with the absence of its perfection.”

She nods slowly, understanding. “Okay.”

“Now come.” He sweeps ahead of her and opens the door. “I think it’s about time for bed, don’t you?”

She nods again, suppressing the urge to argue, to demand a litany of answers from Professor Dumbledore. He could solve their whole mystery in a moment, what is being hidden in the castle, why it’s there, and the truth about their suspicions about Snape. But she knows, even if she did ask, he would never answer, not without a question back to her and an unsolvable riddle. And she knows better than to give her own hand away for nothing in return.

So she follows alongside him through the dark hallways in silence. She lets him lock the door to the mirror behind them without comment, knowing that she will never see it again. As much as she longs for even just a glimpse of what Scott saw, she knows it’s not possible now. Just like it wasn’t possible for the Sorting Hat to put her in Gryffindor all those months ago. 

The castle has felt frozen all through the holidays, too still and too silent with the absence of students, but it feels especially cold as they wind down towards the entrance hall. She almost feels like she can see her breath, ghosting in the air. Dumbledore walks with her to the mouth of the dungeons, then turns to go without a backwards glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tessa... it's hard being a Slytherin sometimes. Thanks to everyone who is still reading! I hope you've enjoyed this. Let me know! I'm also around on tumblr @sinkingsidewalks


	14. Chapter 14

Term starts again and school work returns so skating is once more relegated to the weekends. On a Sunday evening, Tessa gets back to the Sytherin common room late after a long supper at the Gryffindor table with Scott. 

There’s an uncomfortable layer of sweat dried onto her skin and she’s looking forward to nothing other than a hot shower and curling up under her duvet to finish her History of Magic readings. 

Of course, the dorm room isn’t empty when she reaches it. As she pushes the door open there’s the sound of something crashing and when she enters Millicent is standing unsubtly in the middle of the room. 

“Hi,” Tessa says politely, her gaze going back and forth between her trunk, and Millicent looking decidedly not guilty. 

“Evening, Tessa,” she smiles too nicely, stepping away from Tessa’s bed and things. 

Tessa crouches down in front of her trunk and picks through it, trying to remember how she left everything. It’s almost certainly been tampered with. Trying to stay casual, she digs to the bottom of her bag of muggle clothes while her heart races in her ears. She pushes past tights and wool socks and jumpers until she feels silky fabric against her skin. 

The cloak is still there, undisturbed. She breathes a sigh of relief as she pulls free a clean pair of pajamas and latches the top of the trunk. 

Millicent stays standing there, watching her. Her eyes are hard and there’s a pinch of frustration between her brows that hasn’t quite been smoothed away by her illusion of indifference.

“Right, well, I’m gonna take a shower.” Tessa grabs her wash bag from her bedside but Millicent stops her. 

“How do you do it?”

Tessa turns back around slowly. “Do what?”

Millicent loses to her scowl. “I know you sneak out of the dorm at night. I woke up the other night when I heard the door latch, then you weren’t in your bed. But you never came back. I didn’t see you until first period.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Millicent rolls her eyes. “Don’t be slow Tessa, we’re both smarter than that. What I can’t figure out is how you’re getting out of the dorm. Because you’re here when we all fall asleep, but at some point you just disappear. It shouldn’t be possible.”

Tessa shakes her head and resists the urge to worry her bottom lip with her teeth. “I think you’re having some very odd dreams Millicent. Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfry.” She steps backwards, towards the bathroom for two feet then turns. 

“I’ll figure it out!” Millicent calls after her. 

“Yeah, well don’t touch my stuff!” Tessa slams the bathroom door behind her so hard it rattles the frame. 

The dorm room really is empty when she gets out of the shower. Although the book stacked at her bedside are in a different order. Tessa sighs and throws her robes back on. There’s still almost half an hour until curfew. 

Pulling the invisibility cloak from her trunk, she shoves it in her bag, takes an old stack of papers as an excuse and heads to the common room. 

At a table in the corner, Abel sits deep in her studying. 

“Hey,” Tessa sits down across from her to get her attention. “Can you cover for me, if anyone asks? I have to run to Gryffindor quickly. I shouldn’t be long, I just need to get my paper from Scott. I must have picked his up by accident earlier.”

“Sure,” Abel says. She’s got her Ancient Runes work spread out over the table and hardly looks up. 

“Thanks.”

Tessa slips out of the dungeon and up the stairs. When she’s turned the corner from the entrance hall she digs the cloak out and throws it over her. She doesn’t want to be held up by teachers asking after her intentions.   
She gets to the tower easily, then starts trolling the hallways for a Gryffindor to get Scott for her. Luckily, she spots Danny headed back to the tower. She jogs to catch up with him, pulling the cloak off. 

“Danny! Hey!” Tessa shoves the cloak swiftly back into her bag. 

“Tess? What are you doing out so late, it’s almost curfew.” He slows so she can fall into step beside him. 

“I know.” She holds up a page of parchment that are really just old transfiguration notes. “I accidentally took Scott’s paper earlier and he’s got History of Magic first period tomorrow.”

They reach Gryffindor tower. Tessa stops at the fat lady’s portrait. “Can you get Scott for me, I think he’s got my essay too.”

Danny sighs. “Yeah, but make it quick. Then get back to your dorm, I don’t want to have to give you detention,” he teases. He heads in through the portrait and Tessa waits for hardly more than five minutes before Scott shows up in his place.

“What’s going on?” He asks breathlessly. “I don’t have a History of Magic essay.”

Tessa rolls her eyes. “I know, I just needed an excuse. You need to take the cloak. Millicent has been looking through my things and I don’t know what she’d do if she found it.” She shoves the bunched up cloak at him. 

“Okay.” He tucks it into his pocket. “Should we maybe cut down on our research?”

Tessa sighs, and shakes her head. They still haven’t found anything, not relating to the three headed dog or Nicolas Flamel. “I don’t know. We can talk about it tomorrow. I have to get back to Slytherin before Snape notices that I’m out of bed.”

“Right. At lunch tomorrow, see you in 4B?”

Tessa nods. “Goodnight, Scott.”

“Night, Tess.”

 

“Tessa,” Jordan catches up with her in the hallway after supper the next night on her way to the library. “There you are. Where’s Scott?”

Tessa frowns. “I don’t know.” She assumes that he’s, like her, somewhere between the Great Hall and the library, but he could also be in his common room or dorm. She truly doesn’t keep track of him, as much as everyone assumes she does. 

Jordan groans. “Gosh, of course the one time I need you to be attached at the hip is the one time you’re not.”

Tessa folds her arms across her chest and opens her mouth to bicker but Jordan cuts her off. 

“Sorry, I just need his help.”

“With what?” Tessa asks, genuinely curious. It’s not like Jordan and Scott have a lot in common other than her. 

Jordan glances around the hallway, then when she seemingly finds it acceptably empty she leans in to whisper to Tessa. “Is his brother Charlie still working with the dragons in Romania?”

Tessa nods slowly. “Yeah, I think so. Why do you need to know about dragons though?”

Jordan’s face pinches. “You can’t tell anyone this, okay? Promise.”

“I promise.” 

“Okay, well, Hagrid’s gotten himself a bit of a _problem_.”

Tessa’s eyebrows shoot up towards her hairline. “He’s got a _dragon?_ Where?”

Jordan hushes her. “In the forest, it’s not very old yet but it’s already dangerous. We need to get rid of it, obviously. And I thought that Charlie might have some contacts.”

Tessa nods, eyes wide, still thinking about a _dragon_ in the forest. “I’ll talk to Scott.”

By breakfast the next morning they have a plan to get the thing to a friend of Charlie’s who will take it out of the country that night. It’s truly an impressive feat of organization that was made possible by Jordan and Charlie, she and Scott were just intermediaries. 

The plan however, does include moving the creature while Jordan has to be in Astronomy class, so it will be carried out by Tessa and Scott alone. 

That night, once the other girls have gone to bed, Tessa sneaks out of the dungeons and meets Scott outside the front doors of the castle. 

“Did anyone see you?” he whispers and she jumps, startled. He melts out of the darkness wearing dark trousers and a black jumper, like something out of a muggle action movie. 

“No,” she whispers back as they fall into step. “Did you bring the cloak?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t want Hagrid to see it.”

“Not even just in case?” 

He shrugs. “I didn’t think we’d need it.”

They creep down over the grounds to Hagrid’s hut where the half-giant opens the door to them with a great bellowing cry. 

“Shhh!” Tessa hisses, pushing the door shut behind them. Hagrid only keeps crying. 

“I’m just gonna miss him so much.” Hagrid says through a noisy blow into his handkerchief. “My little Norbert.” 

“Norbert?” Scott asks incredulously, mostly to Tessa. 

Hagrid then wraps them in a hug, one of them in each arm. Scott reaches up and pats his shoulder in an awkward gesture of comfort. 

“We’ve got to go,” Tessa says, mostly to Scott as they’re both released. 

“Right,” Scott says to Hagrid. “It’s time to say goodbye, Hagrid. It’s hard, but we all know that this is the right thing to do, for Norbert.”

Hagrid takes a great, heaving, deep breath and nods. “You’re right, he’ll be happy there, with the others.”

“Exactly. Now let’s go meet Charlie’s friend okay? He’ll be a good guy, if Charlie likes him.”

“Oh I’m sure. Your brother was one of the best Magical Creatures students we’ve had come through Hogwarts in all my time.” 

They sneak across the grounds to the edge of the forest where the dragon’s being kept and where they told Charlie’s friends they’d meet them. Hagrid blows his nose twice more, each one sounding more like a lawnmower than the last, but the dragon is handed over and the three wizards fly away on brooms with its cage tied between them. 

“We’ve got to get back up to the castle before anyone notices we’re gone.” Scott says with a gentle hand on Hagrid’s arm. 

“Of course,” Hagrid wheezes. “Thanks for sayin’ goodbye with me.”

They run back up to the castle without a backwards glance. The front doors creak as they open but the entrance hall is deserted. 

Scott opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by a shuffle and the squeak of a shoe scuffing the floor. 

Tessa shoots a look at him. _What was that?_ Then whips her gaze around the hall. 

He shrugs, but there are definite footsteps now. Tessa freezes, the stairs down to the dungeon are right there, she could run down to the common room and be safe, but that would leave Scott behind, exposed without the invisibility cloak. Or she could drag him down into the dungeon with her, but if they were caught who knows how much more trouble she’d be in for bringing a Gryffindor into the common room. 

While Tessa and Scott stay frozen with indecision, trying to melt into the shadows of the hall, the footsteps round the corner. 

“Hah!” Draco says with a satisfied grin. Millicent gleams beside him. “You’re going to be in so much trouble.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Detention’s not really the _worst_ thing in the world.” Scott says pleadingly, watching as Tessa stares into an empty plate beside him at the Gryffindor table the next evening. He pushes a piece of bread onto her plate as some kind of peace offering. 

The hall is mostly empty, dinner hours are almost over, and they’re just there waiting to be collected for their detention. 

“It’s not just writing lines though. It’s detention in the Forbidden Forest, with Malfoy and Millicent.” Tessa takes a butter knife and scrapes at the slightly burnt crust of the bread but doesn’t eat it. 

“Okay, so it’s bad, but-“

“My mother is going to be _livid_.” She stabs the bread again. The knife punches through the crust to the soft center. 

He winces. Kate does have a protective streak over her youngest. Which is usually okay, because Tessa is usually pretty good at following the rules, but when something goes wrong, it blows up in both their faces. Usually, as her mother likes to point out, because the thing that goes wrong is his fault. 

“Okay, maybe, but-“

Filch enters the dining hall. 

“You four.” He motions to him and Tess at the Gryffindor table, and Malfoy and Millicent at Slytherin. The one redeeming quality of this punishment is that at least the latter two are also being disciplined for being out of bed. “With me.” Filch smiles and it’s not encouraging. 

“Hagrid’s running your detention this evening.” Filch drawls as they walk down the grounds. Night fell hours ago. He leads them down with a single lantern, Malfoy and Millicent behind him, and Tessa and Scott following them. 

“You’ll be helping him out with some work in the forest.”

“We’re going into the forest?” Malfoy proclaims, indignant, but definitely afraid. “With that oaf?”

“Sure are.” Filch grins.

“But what about-“ Millicent says, then stops herself. “Is it not dangerous.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

“It’s hardly responsible to have us out here in the dark,” Millicent grumbles. 

“My father _will_ hear about this.”

Scott lags behind the others, nudging Tessa’s arm with his elbow to keep her in step with him. “Here,” he whispers, shoving the invisibility cloak at Tessa. 

“What?” Tessa hisses looking over to the others who are still engaged with Filch, then to her hands where the cloak is between them. “I can’t keep it.” She shoots another look ahead to Millicent and Draco whose backs stay thankfully turned. “Millicent will find it.”

Scott shakes his head. “She’s won; she’s already caught us. She’ll leave you alone now. Especially after getting detention.” He puts the cloak into her hands. “Just take it, Tess. You should have it.”

“Fine.” She shoves it into one of her pockets then pulls on his sleeve to catch them back up to the others. 

Filch leaves them at Hagrid’s, where he waits with Fang and a set of lanterns at the edge of the treeline.

“We’re looking for a unicorn,” Hagrid explains to the four of them. 

They’re all jittering, standing near the edge of the forest that darkness seems to crawl out of. 

“There’s one that’s been injured and it’s our job to find it and fix it up, okay? So two of you will go with Fang, and the other two myself.”

“I’m with Tessa,” Scott says immediately. Malfoy rolls his eyes at him. 

“Well, then I get Fang.” 

“Fine,” Tessa says. “We’ll go with Hagrid.”

“Alright kids,” Hagrid cuts between them, his voice gruff. “You’ve all got your wands. So if you find anything you send up green sparks, and if you’re in trouble make ‘em red, okay?”

They split off and wander into the woods. Hagrid leads him and Tessa down a path to the north, while Malfoy and Millicent follow Fang to the south. A chill runs down his spine once they’re submerged by the trees, like a crawling spider, and he grips his wand carefully. Not too tight, not too loose. 

“Take my hand,” Tessa whispers in the dark. Hagrid is ten steps ahead of them and Scott wants to race to catch up. He’s not afraid of the dark – he’s _not_ – but the blackness around them is only deepened further by the eerie quiet. It’s broken only by their footsteps on the undergrowth, which are both deafening and don’t seem loud enough. 

“What?” he hisses back. “Why?” His palms are slippery with sweat and he doesn’t exactly want to share that information with her. Not when he’s trying to be all brave and everything. 

“Just in case.” She says and she has her other hand wrapped around her wand. 

“Right.” He grips onto her hand and it already makes him feel a bit safer. Her palm is damp with sweat too, and frigid, like it always is in the rink. It’s just barely cold enough out for his breath to fog in the air, each exhale leaves only the shadow of his lungs in front of them. 

Hagrid turns a corner and when they follow after him there’s no one there. Tessa’s grip on his hand tightens and they both fall to a stop. 

“Okay,” she whispers and he thinks it’s to herself. “Don’t panic.”

“Just keep walking.” He tells her and they both nod to each other. “He can’t be far.”

It feels like they go in circles for forever but it’s probably not more than ten minutes when they find it. There’s a trail of silvery goop, blood from a unicorn, that they follow through the foliage until they reach its corpse. Tessa makes a sad noise in her throat and shifts her grip on her wand to send up sparks. 

Except it’s not alone. 

There’s a creature, shrouded in just as much darkness as the trees, bent over the shining body of the unicorn, drinking from its neck. When it notices them, it spins around slowly, hardly touching the ground. 

They stumble backwards in a panic. The creature ghosts forward and there’s a roaring pain in his chest, over his heart, that knocks him down. Beside him, he sees Tessa clutching at her hand as she falls to the forest beside him. His breath is gone from his lungs, like when they’d plunged into the frozen lake, except this time it’s fire keeping him from drawing a new breath, not ice. 

He waves his wand, still clutching Tessa with his other hand, and a fireworks of red shoots upwards. The creature doesn’t flinch. It’s almost human in form but there’s something wrong with the angle of the neck. 

Just when he thinks he’s going to pass out a new creature canters in, and the front legs of a horse rear up between them and the beast. The centaur falls back to all fours and the other thing flees away. 

“Tessa Virtue.” The centaur says to Tessa, then it turns to him. “Scott Moir.” 

They both push themselves back up to their feet, awkwardly, each trying to keep a grip on the other. 

“You should not be here. This forest holds too many dangers for humans like yourselves. We must go to safety.” He starts walking through the trees and all Tessa and Scott can do is follow. 

“Um, what was that?”

“That was a creature of great darkness.”

“Why was it,” Scott asks clumsily, “You know.”

“Only a truly depraved creature would feast on the blood of a unicorn, of a creature of such purity. But those who choose to are granted eternal life, though it is a cursed life, it is a life nonetheless. That is all I am permitted to say.”

“Oh.” He looks at Tessa. She’s pale, far more than usual, but she’s staring at the centaur with more curiosity than fear. He wishes he could feel the same, but there’s still a hole burning its way through his chest. Every three seconds he has to resist the urge to look back over his shoulder, to double, triple check that they’re not being followed by that… thing. 

Hagrid bursts through the trees panting. “I saw yer sparks, but then the others got into a bit of a mess too and then I couldn’t find ya.” He greets the centaur. “Firenze, nice to see ya. Thanks for taking care of these two for me.”

“These are not children to be in the forest, Hagrid.” He says and slips away through the trees, disappearing immediately into the foliage. 

“Of course.” Hagrid calls after him, shaking his head. “Bloody weird, centaurs are. You can never get a straight answer out of them, you know?”

Scott stares numbly at him. His chest still aches but in a distant sort of way. Tessa squeezes his hand. 

“We found the unicorn,” she says. “It was already dead.”

“Oh well,” Hagrid sighs. “We’re almost back to the grounds now, so I guess you’ve served your time.”

“Right,” Scott says. He’d forgotten all about detention with the ghosting image of that creature burning through his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to find me on tumblr I'm @sinkingsidewalks there as well


	16. Chapter 16

The events in the forest are almost forgotten as they fall back into the habits of school work. It’s not like they can tell anyone about the monster they supposedly saw in the forest, and every time Tessa tries to bring it up with Scott, he changes the subject as quickly as possible, one of his hands rubbing at his shirt over his heart. It starts to feel more like a bad dream than anything real that happened to her. 

They skate on the weekends until the frosts start to melt, until even Danny’s most clever magic can’t keep the surface strong enough. No one is willing to risk a repeat of earlier in the year so her skates return sadly to the bottom of her trunk. 

Spring brings a blustering cold, rainstorms and windstorms that keep them locked inside the library, and the Great Hall, and classroom 4B on the third floor. It turns Scott as restless as ever and she’s taken to allowing him to hold her hand while she studies in their abandoned classroom and he tries out spell after spell. 

“I can’t believe it’s raining, _again_. It’s gonna make Quidditch awful.” Scott moans on a Sunday morning when she’s trying to perfect her mending charm. He’s plowing through a pile of chocolate frogs like they just had a three-hour practice. 

Scott shoves the chocolate frog into his mouth and glances over the card with a frown. 

“Ugh, just another Dumbledore.” He flips it over, so that the text is facing Tessa. It catches her eye. She snatches it out of his hand.

“Hey!” he complains, one hand stretching to grab it back but she pulls away.

“Nicolas Flamel.” She whispers, staring intently down at it. 

“What?” he mumbles around a mouthful of melting chocolate. 

“Nicolas Flamel!” She shoves the card back at him. “I knew I’d heard it somewhere before! I just didn’t expect it to be on a chocolate frog of all things.”

“Famous for…” Scott reads trailing off, “His work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel! Good job Tess!” He drops the card. “Now what do we do?”

She packs up her books. “We go to the library.”

It’s almost too easy from there on out. She finds a book, a biography of Dumbledore, that explains his early work in alchemy and it’s right there. The Philosopher’s Stone. The giver of eternal life. 

“Why would Snape want it now though?” Scott questions, whispering in the stacks of the library to her. “It’s not like he’s aged and decrepit. Yet.”

Tessa bites her lip. The pieces of the puzzle clicking together for her. Eternal life. Snape out of favour with Him. The creature in the woods with the unicorn. What if that was-?

“Snape could be working for…” she whispers, he stares at her and doesn’t catch on. “You know.” She prompts and he looks as dumb as ever. 

“You-Know-Who,” she barely breathes. 

“What?” Scott hisses, looking around them, then tugging her deeper into the stacks. “What makes you say that.”

“The girls in my dorm talk sometimes, they think I don’t listen. But they all talk about which families are still loyal and which are going to be killed, you know, if he comes back.”

Scott presses his palm over her mouth. “Don’t _say_ that.”

She licks his hand and he pulls away disgusted. “It’s not what _I_ say, it’s what _they_ do. And they seem certain that Snape was one.”

“A- A Death Eater?” 

Tessa nods vigorously.

“Well, what do we do?”

“We need proof.” She bites her lip and looks at the clock on the library wall. “The Quidditch game starts in half an hour. You go and watch out for Snape, he should be there, it is his house playing, and I’ll stake out the common room in case he stays behind. We’ll watch him, keep an eye out for anything remotely suspicious, but don’t let him catch on. He already suspects something of us, if he knows that we know what he’s after…”

“He’ll go after it all that much faster. Okay,” Scott says, rolling up the sleeves of his jumper, looking almost eager. A trickle of dread rolls down her spine but she ignores it. They’ve got a mission to complete. 

“We’ll meet back here right after the game, okay?”

“See you then.” He turns to go. 

“And Scott,” she whisper-shouts after him, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He grins, not nearly serious enough for the subject matter. “No promises.”

Tessa runs through the corridors back to her common room. If Snape is anywhere at the moment, it’s there, in his office, and she wants to catch him before he leaves in case he doesn’t go to the Quidditch game. She also wants to steal up to her dorm room first and grab the invisibility cloak so she can follow him. 

The Slytherin dungeons are empty when she bursts through the doors. The whole house is undoubtedly already in the stands or chatting in the Great Hall before the game. She darts up the stairs, digs through her trunk for the cloak, stuffs it in the pocket of her robes, and races down the stairs. 

“Miss Virtue.” Snape drawls and she freezes. 

“In a rush, are we?”

Tessa turns slowly on her heel to look at him. He’s leaning against one of the fireplaces on the far wall and while she’s almost certain he wasn’t there when she came in, she can’t tell for sure. He looks like a statue, like he’s never moved at all. 

“Don’t want to miss the game,” she says, breathless. 

“Of course.” Only his lips shape around the words, the rest of his face remains perfectly impassive. “Wouldn’t want to miss witnessing the loss of your beloved Gryffindor.” 

Tessa grits her teeth. 

“I’ll walk with you.” Snape defrosts. He steps across the room until he’s got a hand gripped like a claw around her shoulder that leads her out of the common room. 

The grounds are chaos leading down to the Quidditch pitch but a path clears for Snape, and by association, Tessa. Gryffindors and Slytherins alike shy away from him and Tessa tries to think herself taller as they walk towards the Slytherin end of the stands. 

Scott is lingering, as inconspicuous as a bull in a china shop. He’s red in a sea of green. His eyes bulge out when he sees her, but he recovers well.

“Don’t you think you should join your house, _Moir_?”

Her eyes meet Scott’s and she sees his thoughts clear as day in his gaze, _Library_. If she’s not there when the match ends, she knows he’ll go to Dumbledore. She nods with a tilt of her chin and lets the invisibility cloak slither down to the ground, unseen. Snape glares at them both. 

Scott stutters. “Seamus is saving me a seat. I’ll see you later Tess, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tessa, with Snape still at her side, turns and walks away from him.  


* * *

  
Fear overcomes him when he sees Snape approach the Slytherin stands with a hand gripped into Tessa’s shoulder. She looks, in no small way, like she’s headed to the gallows and it takes everything in him not to make a scene when Snape tries to send him away. 

He tries as hard as he can, with every thought, every inch of his expression, to make her understand that he’ll still meet her in the library after the game. That if she’s not there he’ll raise some hell to find her. 

She nods, like she understands, ever so slightly, and twists her wrist to catch his attention downwards. 

The glimmer of the invisibility cloak catches his eye. It’s subtle in the daylight. If he didn’t know what it was he’d never notice it, but he’s so familiar with the sheen of it from watching out the Gryffindor hallway waiting for her. 

She opens her hand, grasped seemingly around nothing, and he knows it’s now on the ground. Then she leaves, Snape with her. He snatches it off the ground before it can be lost and races as fast as he can to the Gryffindor stands across the pitch. 

“Give me your binoculars.” He demands of Dean, who hands them over with confusion. It’s not important though. Scott peers through the lenses, scanning the Slytherin stands for Tessa and Snape. He finds them at the top, sitting side by side, and focuses all his attention on watching. 

He has no idea what happens in the game. 

The minute it’s over, the minute Snape is releasing Tessa from the stands, he’s running down his own set of steps, towards the library. 

He pushes through the crowd as fast as he can. Through a screaming hoard of Ravenclaws who are excited for no discernable reason. It wasn’t even their game. Halfway around the pitch he sees Hagrid and decides the possibility of information is worth a detour. 

He pulls Hagrid aside. “We _know_. Hagrid we know about the Philosopher’s stone. And by now Snape has probably figured out that we know and he’s going to try to steal it again before we can stop him. _What_ is guarding it besides that dog?”

Hagrid looks shocked for only a second then shakes his head disapprovingly. “There’s no way anyone’s getting through there. All of the Professors, even myself, chipped into that protection, there’s no way that Severus Snape gets through all of them. He may be a great wizard but he’s no match for six of the greatest wizards alive today. Not that I consider myself-“

“Six. Six professors helped Dumbledore with the security.”

Hagrid’s face falls. “Oh. Oh no, not again.”

Scott is already running away, up towards the castle. “Thanks Hagrid!” 

He races through the castle, past the Great Hall and up two flights of stairs to the Library. He runs into Tess just outside the doors and he can breathe again. He relays the information Hagrid gave him then gets to the point. 

“Snape,” he gasps against the burn of his lungs. “He’s going to try-“

“Tonight, I know.” Tessa finishes, pulling him in the other direction, to the forbidden third floor corridor. “We have to go now.” 

They run into Professor McGonagall on the way. 

“Professor!” Scott calls to her. “We need to get Dumbledore right away. Snape, he’s trying to break into the vault, he’s trying to steal the Philosopher’s stone.”

McGonagall raises one eyebrow a fraction of a degree. “How on earth do you know that name?”

“It’s not important.” Tessa says. “We know that Snape is going to try to steal it tonight.” 

“And he’s gonna give it to You-Know-Who.” Scott adds. 

“That is absolutely preposterous. Besides, Dumbledore left on urgent business to the Ministry.”

“Dumbledore’s not at Hogwarts?” Tessa asks breathless. The castle wasn’t safe any longer, and no one even noticed. 

“He’ll be back by the morning I’m sure. There’s no need to worry. Besides, there’s been a victory, you should be celebrating.”

“Right.” Scott pulls her away by her hand. “Celebrating. That’s just what we’ll do, right Tess.”

“Right.” They run down the overflowing halls again. 

While the rest of the castle may be in chaos the forbidden corridor on the third floor is absolutely silent. Tessa leads them in, down the hall and to the last door at the end. She feels Scott watching over her shoulder as she opens the lock easily. 

Music spills outwards as the door creaks open, along with the heavy snores of the hound inside. 

“He’s already here,” Scott whispers. 

Tessa nods. “He must have come straight from the match.” They creep into the room and the door hitches shut behind them. Now there’s no going back. 

The dogs snore loudly, a hitch in their own breathing, and both Tessa and Scott freeze up.

“We have to go after him, don’t we?” Scott says. It’s not even a question. 

“Yeah.” Tessa creeps forward, the dog shifts over and she pulls open the hatch to the trapdoor. Inside, there’s nothing but darkness. “We really do.”

Scott laughs. “And people say it’s always me getting you in trouble.”

Tessa holds out her hand. “Together?”

Scott nods, they both hang with their feet into the crevice. “On three.” 

“One,” Tessa whispers. 

“Two,” Scott continues. 

“Three,” they say together. 

The lullaby ends. 

And they fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! This is the beginning of the end. There are three more chapters, then a small epilogue. Thanks for reading as always. And if you want to find me on tumblr I'm @sinkingsidewalks


	17. Chapter 17

The ground that catches them in the cavern is almost soft. It’s an odd texture, woven really, that she thinks is lovely until it reaches out and wraps around her ankle. 

“Scott?” She calls panicked. His hand is still gripping hers but she can’t see him in the dark and she needs more confirmation. 

“Yup,” he sounds like he’s struggling. “Same boat.”

She kicks at the vine that’s now making its way up her leg. It doesn’t make any sense. Why have six different people work on it if whoever goes down is immediately suffocated by a giant, winding vine?

The thought triggers a memory. “Stay still!” she calls at Scott, freezing herself. Her heart pounds on in her throat but she can lock down every muscle even with the vines pulling at her. 

“What?” He’s still panicking. She squeezes his hand in a futile effort to relay some calm to him.

“It’s Devil’s Snare. Jordan was talking about it ages ago. It only winds tighter the harder you struggle. If we stay still it should let us pass.”

He stops and takes a slow breath. When he speaks his voice is measured. “Are we really sure we _want_ to pass?”

She scoffs and feels herself dropping through the vines. “It’s a little late for that.”

They land on the other side and pass through a door into a tall, round room built entirely of stone. A fluttering sound fills the air above them. 

“There’s a door.” Scott paces across the small space and tries it. There’s no give under the handle, locked. Tessa watches him try _Alohamora_ with no results and her gaze tips upwards to the noise.

“Keys,” she says quietly to the little bird shapes that float around the ceiling. There are hundreds of them, all of different shapes and sizes. They weave through the air, some zipping around like hummingbirds and others as lazy as a pollen drunk honeybee. 

They both scan the mass of them, looking for something out of the ordinary. 

“That one!” Scott points to one that’s older. It’s rusted over and one of the wings are broken, like it’s been forced more than once into a lock. 

“Accio key!” she tries, but nothing happens. Scott gives her a dumb look. “It was worth a try.” She shrugs. 

“What about a conjuring spell of some kind?” He rubs his jaw thinking. That’s way above their skill level. She wouldn’t even know where to begin and she can tell by the bite of his frown that he wouldn’t either. 

“Or, freezing?” she suggests. “I’ve been working on something so we can skate longer in the year but it’s still not very strong.”

“Well,” Scott says, holding out his hand. “Only one way to see.”

Biting her lip in concentration, she takes his hand in hers and readjusts her wand in the other. She’s never made the spell work on just water, hasn’t managed more than a chill to the liquid, so she has no idea how it’s going to freeze a metal key, but she doesn’t think about any of that. 

“ _Glacius_!” She points her wand to the key they want and feels Scott’s grip against her palm. The metal coats in a thin sheet of ice, which immobilizes the wings and drops it heavily down into her hand. 

“Yeah Tess!” Scott fist pumps and she laughs at him. 

They’re through the lock and into a third room. It’s only slightly larger than the last, with a door at the far end blocked long beam of a weight on a perfectly balanced scale. It’s the same scale they sometimes use in transfiguration to practically show mass, except grown so that it sits on the floor and stands taller than she is. 

“So, Fluffy was Hagrid. The Devil’s Snare would be Professor Sprout.” Tessa starts. 

Scott continues. “The keys would be charms, would be Flitwick, so this is what?”

“It’s a puzzle.”

“McGonagall?”

“Yeah.” Tessa steps forward. “All we need to do is lower the other end of the weight so that this side lifts free of the door.”

“I doubt it’s that simple.” 

“Try.” Tessa steps forward and pulls on the opposite end of the scale but it doesn’t budge. Even though there’s no tension, she can let her whole body weight hang off the one side and the other stays completely still. Scott smirks. 

“What’s your suggestion then?”

He points at a low table in the middle of the room. Sitting on it are a needle and a deck of cards. 

“Are we supposed to play?”

Scott shakes his head. “I can’t pick these up.”

She frowns and goes over. He’s right, she can’t pry either of them from the surface, it’s like they’re welded into the table.

“What now?”

“I’m not sure.” Scott walks around the table, studying the objects at every angle. “If it’s McGonagall’s puzzle then it would be about transfiguration.”

“And obviously we need to use these to move the scale in front of the door, but without touching them. So can you make, like I don’t know a dog or something to hold the scale down?” If the last task was theirs to figure out together, this one is entirely his. This, like maths, like the numbers of their velocity on the ice, has always gone completely over her head. 

“You can’t just turn anything to anything, it’s gotta be equal. A mouse out of a matchbox and an owl into a globe. Transfiguration can’t take or give, it can only change.”

She rolls her eyes. “Thanks Professor.” He ignores her. 

“So a deck of cards could be…” He bites at his bottom lip thoughtfully. 

“ _Avifors_.” He points his wand gently and a small, red breasted bird shivers free from the deck of cards. There’s a pattern of spades along it’s back and when it spreads it’s wings she sees diamonds. 

He guides the bird with his wand across the table to pick up the needle, then follows it across the room to have it set the tiny bit of metal on the opposing side of the weight. It drops like a one tonne weight fell on it. The other side of the beam glides upwards and the door opens, unbarred. 

The next room reeks of sewer and garbage. Slumped onto the floor is the massive shape of a passed out troll. 

“Quirrell,” Scott says, holding his nose. They race through to the next door and once it’s shut behind them a ring of blue flames jump up the walls around them. 

The fifth and final room holds a table with a row of vials on it and a piece of paper with a riddle. Tessa reads it over once, then twice. She can feel Scott watching her on the third round. 

Her grandmother used to write her little riddles, when she’d spend days at her house while all her siblings were off at Hogwarts and she was left home alone. Little puzzles that would lead her to a biscuit or back to where one of her dolls was hiding. They’d gotten more complicated as she got older. 

This one is dense but fairly simple. There’s one potion that will allow the drinker to pass forward through the flames and the door onward, and another that will take them back. The rest hold relative death. 

“It’s that one.” She points to the bottle at the end of the row, small and round, made of emerald stained glass. 

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Sorry, I just-“ he shakes his head cutting of his own sentence. Says to them both, silently, how it’s so not important. The bottle is tiny.

“Only one of us can go.” Tessa says, her tone too frank and unemotional. Not nearly scared enough. There’s been a disconnect, ever since they passed through the Devil’s Snare, between herself and the crushing fear she knows she must be feeling. 

“What? No way Tess. We can’t split up that’s when someone always dies in the movies.”

“Well Snape is already through and someone has to go send for Dumbledore.” She has a point and she knows she’s right about it. “Besides Scott, this isn’t a movie.”

“Right, it’s real, and there’s no way I’m leaving you alone to go face our maniacal Potions professor!”

“It’s the only way! I’ll stall him, keep him from getting the stone until you can get help.”

He huffs, grits his teeth. “Fine then I’m going through and you’re going to get a teacher.”

“No way.”

“Why not? It’s your plan.”

“Scott, be realistic, we both know that I have better control.” She’s grown a lot since the start of the year. Recently she’s been able to get spells down the first try without his presence.

“Yet another reason why we should go together. We’re better together, we’re _stronger_ together.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that we can’t _beat_ him. Whoever goes through is not going to defeat Snape. Stalling is our only option. And I’m better at talking and you’re better at running.” She needs him to stop being so emotional, but she’s not sure that’s ever been possible. The seconds that they’re wasting tick by as his anger cements in. 

He shakes his head. “I’m older!” His hands clench into fists at his sides along with the bite of his jaw. 

“By two days!” she protests. “Besides that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?!” Scott roars. 

“He killed _my_ dad.” Tessa grits her teeth. “Voldemort killed my dad. Both our parents may have fought him but _my_ dad was the one who died doing it.”

He freezes, and she knows she’s won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lets be real, neither of them was going to be good at chess. I hope you like this. thanks, as always, for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

Scott watches her take the bottle off the table and open it when he has no counter argument. She takes a dainty sip and shivers. 

“Go tell Dumbledore.” She says, pressing the other bottle, the one that will take him back through the fire, into his hand. 

Then she pulls away, disentangles her other hand which had stayed gripped in his, spares him one last glance and walks, determined, through the fire.

Scott’s heart does a summersault and he sets down the bottle Tessa had thrust into his grip. Instead, he takes the one she left behind and brings it to his lips with his head thrown back. He won’t leave her behind.

A single drop of potion slides over his lips. He catches it with his tongue, shudders lightly against the shiver that passes through his skin, and throws the invisibility cloak over his shoulders, stepping through the flames. 

He hopes that their desperation tipped McGonagall off enough to send for Dumbledore herself because if no one else comes, they’re royally screwed. It still doesn’t change his choice though. If either of them are going to die tonight, it’s not going to be apart. 

The first thing Scott notices when he enters the antechamber is that Professor Quirrell – Professor Quirrell? – is already speaking. Their shaky Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is mid-ramble on some spiel about power, surprisingly tremble free. 

He creeps forward, ghosting along the floor, unnoticed by their professor. At the back of the room is the mirror Tessa found at Christmas. Quirrell stands in front of it, staring intently.

“I see myself,” Quirrell glares into his own reflection, “With the stone, but how do I find it. Why won’t it show me how to find it.”

Tessa watches Quirrell and Scott watches Tessa. Neither of them move. 

“This is just like Dumbledore.” Quirrell rants. “With him it’s always tricks and games.”

He touches the glass roughly with one hand. “How do I find it?”

“The girl!” A rasping voice fills the room, emanating from behind Quirrell. Is Voldemort here? In the castle? It can’t be possible. And yet. 

“What?” Quirrell asks. 

“The girl will give it to you.” The voice gasps. “Let me speak with her.”

Quirrell reaches up to the cloth covering his head and pulls the fabric away. Revealed beneath, where the back of his skull should be, is the disfigured face of Lord Voldemort. 

When wrappings fall away, Scott can’t even scream because of the sudden, burning pain through his chest. It feels like he’s being struck with lightning at a single point. He claws at his skin like there are flames to extinguish but all he can feel beneath his shirt is the wrinkle of the lighting scar that forms over his heart. 

Tessa gasps and clutches one hand around her other wrist. Somehow, even though he doesn’t know why, he knows that she’s feeling the same pain he is except through a different scar.

Voldemort takes no notice. 

Scott’s whole body goes flush with fear. They have to get out of here. They can’t even perform a proper curse yet, let alone fight off You-Know-Who.

Maybe, if he was quick enough, he could throw the invisibility cloak over Tessa too and rush them both out of the chamber. Back up to safety and Professor McGonagall and an absence of Dark Lords.

But before he can move Quirrell is pulling Tess forward and he’s lost his chance. He follows behind her anyway. Heat from the flames around the room bears in on him and he sweats beneath the cloak. 

Tessa is in front of the mirror, and despite the cloak he can see his reflection behind hers. He wonders if she can see it too. She’s staring at her own mirrored image intensely. 

They just need to find the stone before Quirrell can. He tries to think it at the mirror. They just need to keep the stone from being taken. The mirror flickers, and all of a sudden he knows he’s not seeing his own greatest desire any longer, but Tessa’s. The scene is focused on her perspective as the Tessa reflected in the mirror puts her finger to her lips to hush them, then dips her hand into her pocket. 

Mirror Tessa has the stone in her hand, is turning it, ruby red and glistening in the firelight, over in her palm. She grins, sly and victorious, at him then slips it back into her pocket. 

He watches the hand of real Tessa slip into her pocket, it comes out empty just as a weight drops into his own. 

He doesn’t have time to ask how the hell it happened because the Voldemort/Quirrell _thing_ is hovering by Tessa’s throat. 

“Tell me what you see.” The disfigured head demands. 

“I-“ Tessa stammers, her eyes meet his in the mirror for the first time and he knows she can see him. There’s a new wave of fear in her eyes that he knows means the mirror has given him away. 

_Lie_ , he wants to whisper, but can’t give himself away. 

“I see,” she swallows. “Dumbledore. He’s handing me an award. My-my mother is crying, happy tears and-“

“Lies!” Voldemort hisses. “Tell me the _truth_!”

“I- I _am_.” Tessa insists, like the youngest sibling she is. 

Voldemort closes in on her. 

He wants to pull he wand, to actually do something, but he can’t remember a single spell. He kicks one of the stones, a broken off piece of the steps, and the Voldemort/Quirrell figure whirls around. 

“Who’s there?” Quirrell asks, but Voldemort doesn’t answer. 

“Ah, I see,” Voldemort says. “The boy is here as well. It would be only right.”

“What?” Tessa asks, her gaze finally torn from the glass.

Voldemort doesn’t even seem to have heard her. 

“You were together when I was cast out of this world, you ought to be together when I come back into it.”

Tessa gasps. Quirrell swoops forward. The cloak is pulled right off of him. 

Scott grips his wand and raises it, reaching out for Tessa’s hand. His hand lands instead on Quirrell’s forearm while Tessa grips onto the sleeve of his robes and the man recoils in pain. It burns in Scott’s chest too, but he reaches out again and sees Tessa realize the same things as him. 

He can hurt them, but they can also hurt him. 

“Finish them!” Voldemort shrieks. “What are you waiting for?”

Quirrell dives forward, knocking Scott to the ground and taking Tessa with them. His head hits hard against the stone and makes everything waver. He drops his wand, but it doesn’t matter because he wasn’t doing anything with it anyway. Scott holds onto Tessa’s wrist and presses his hand into Quirrell’s face. 

It burns away. And fire pours through Scott’s chest, bright and hot so that he can’t breathe. It’s overwhelming. The rest of his body has gone numb from it. His head swirls, like any second he could pass out. 

He digs his fingers into the melting face and feels Tessa’s hand beside his doing the same. Then, as Professor Quirrell screams, he finally slips out of consciousness.


	19. Chapter 19

Tessa wakes up in the hospital wing with the worst headache she’s ever had. When she manages to open her eyes she finds her hands covered in bandages, but the sharp, iron hot pain that drilled through her wrist, through her scar, is gone. 

“Scott?” she mumbles, twisting her neck and making the pain double. Her temples throb and her vision goes blurry at the edges. 

“Scott, I’m afraid,” Dumbledore says from her bedside. “Is still taking a well-deserved rest.”

Tessa blinks away the clouds in her vision and sees Scott passed out on the cot next to hers. His hands are in similar shape. 

“Is he going to be okay?” she whispers, almost not sure that she wants an answer. 

“He will be as well as you are, with some rest and the proper care of course. There’s no need to worry.” Dumbledore pats the bed instead of her knee in a way that she supposes is supposed to be comforting. 

“Now, I suppose you should have some questions?”

Tessa bites her lip and thinks about where to start. “That was- That was Him, You-Know-Who, right?”

“Yes, but please, none of these silly nicknames. That was Voldemort you faced beneath the castle.”

Tessa flinches still at the name. “But… with Quirrell? What about Professor Snape? All of the evidence pointed to him, we were so sure.”

Dumbledore sighs. “I think you’ll find that however suspicious his actions, Professor Snape’s intentions were well-meaning. And I must warn you, in the future, from making such assumptions about others, especially your professors.”

Tessa’s gaze drops to her hands. “I know.” Her head is still hazy, and swarming with questions. She doesn’t know which Dumbledore will answer. “But Quirrell, why did he burn like that?” 

“Because you share a connection, as it was fated. He gave you that scar,” he points to her bandaged hand, to the zig-zag scar beneath, “And scars bring us power, knowledge. They are tools we can use to fight darkness, they mark us for who we’re meant to be. That scar does both.”

“It could have been either of you, a child to those who have three times defied him, born as the seventh month dies.” He clicks his tongue to himself and Tessa has no idea what he’s talking about. “It was Voldemort himself who chose.”

“But I don’t understand Professor, who did he choose? What did he choose us for?”

Dumbledore chuckles. “Yes, I suppose he wondered that as well. Has anyone ever told you the story of the night your father died, Miss Virtue?”

She shakes her head. She’d never dared to ask. 

“The night your father died was also the night that Lord Voldemort died. Your father was watching you alone, when Voldemort came to kill your family. He sacrificed himself to save not just you, but Scott as well and in that act of selflessness, the purity of that love, Voldemort, who could never feel such love, could not survive.”

“That love left marks on you both,” Dumbledore continues. “It links you together. Haven’t you ever wondered why it is your magic performs so much more beautifully in tandem?”

“I just thought…” She doesn’t know. Maybe that they were soul mates, or something of the sort. Her brow furrows. 

“I’ve given you enough to ponder over.” Dumbledore stands. “You need your rest, there’s a feast ahead of us!”

“But-“ she still has questions, but he’s already gone. 

“Tess?” Scott mutters, blinking awake. 

“Right over here.” She says, wishing that the beds were close enough together that she could reach out and take his hand, even bandaged as they are. 

“I just had the strangest dream, T. You wouldn’t believe it.” He mumbles, still half asleep. 

She laughs. “Bet you a chocolate frog I’ve got you beat.”

His eyes close again, sinking away. “You’re on.”

 

They spend the whole next day in the hospital wing, healing and sleeping, and being scolded by Madam Pomfry for not resting. Her hands heal quickly with the help of a salve but she cracked her head on the stone floor when she passed out and the headache lingers. 

Once they’re released, Tessa spends the day packing up her things, studiously ignoring her dorm mates bickering. Tessa sorts through piles of old parchment and folds sweaters, not bothering to overhear what the other girls are saying about her. The invisibility cloak is there at the bottom of her trunk, like she never took it in the first place and she wonders who, in the castle, is truly on their side. 

By the time she’s latched her trunk shut it is almost time for the end of year feast. She meets Abel in the common room and together they head up to the Great Hall. 

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks.”

Abel pauses, like there’s more she wants to say, but they climb the stairs in silence. Once they get to the top, to the entrance hall, Abel stops her with a hand on her arm. 

“There’s been a lot of rumours going around about what really happened with you and Scott. I don’t know what’s true and what’s the fourth years getting bored but I want you to know that I’m not listening to the rest of the house or the rest of the school. I’m your friend Tessa.”

Tessa nods. “I know. And I’m your friend too.”

“Good.” Abel starts walking into the Great Hall again then pauses when Tessa doesn’t follow. “Waiting for Scott?”

“Yeah, I think I will.” 

Abel nods and head in to the Slytherin table. 

“Tessa!” Danny swoops her up in a hug that she doesn’t even see coming. By the time he sets her back on her feet she’s fully laughing. 

“Scott told me all about what happened. And as your Prefect I have to say that it was wildly irresponsible of the two of you and you could have gotten yourselves killed. But as an older brother, I’ll say that was badass.” 

He holds up his hand for a high five and she slaps his palm. “Thanks.”

“You’re lucky McGonagall knew Scott wouldn’t leave it alone and went after you.”

“Yeah.” Tessa shudders. The thought of what could have happened if they’d been left unconscious any longer is chilling. Even though Voldemort had fled, Madam Pomfry said they were already in rough shape by the time Professor McGonagall got them up to the hospital wing as it was. 

Dany puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes. “Well, I’m starving, I’ll see you in there.”

“See you.” Tessa waves at him. 

She waits another five minutes, long enough for most of the school to file into the Great Hall, before another wave of Gryffindors appear. 

“Hey, Tess.” Scott peels off from the group of Gryffindors as they clatter down the staircase. 

“Hey. Feeling better?”

“Yeah, you?”

Her head still aches a little at the base of her skull but other than that it could have been like the whole thing never even happened. “I’m fine.”

Scott’s dorm mates pass into the Great Hall and he waves at one of them, making no move to leave Tessa’s side. 

“So,” he says, and she understands his inflection. 

“Yeah,” she nods. “That was crazy.”

“Did Dumbledore explain to you? I can’t believe Mum never told me!”

Tessa gets it though, to protect them, they had to be totally ignorant. And now that they know, it can’t be anything but a danger to them. She nods. “I can’t believe it wasn’t Snape.” 

“I know right! Quirrell, who would have guessed.” Scott shakes his head. “I still don’t trust that guy though.”

Tessa rolls her eyes. “He was looking out for us.”

Scott’s forehead stays pinched in annoyance. “Still. He’s kinda creepy.”

Tessa can’t exactly argue with that. When she returned from the hospital wing the night before he stared at her as she walked all the way through the common room, but said nothing. 

“We’ll keep an eye on him, next year.” 

Not wanting to be overheard, they both stop talking as another wave of student pass. The banners inside the Great Hall flicker, the whole room is decked with blue and silver. 

Scott takes her hand, the ebb and flow between them still there. The doors to the Great Hall stand open, just as enticing as they were on the first day they arrived.

“Wanna go in?” Scott tilts his chin to indicate. 

She looks in through the doorway. At the Slytherin table Draco slouches, looking bored with his head propped up on one hand. Millicent and the other girls from her dorm sit a few seats down, their heads bowed together in gossip. Dumbledore steps up in front of the hall and starts to speak. 

Tessa shakes her head. “Nah. We can raid the kitchens later.” 

She pulls on his hand, leading them out into the warm orange glow of the setting summer sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, I know! I'm sorry! I have no excuse other than I'm a bundle of stress rn (moving countries is stressful, who would've thought?)  
> There's only a tiny little epilogue after this that should be up on the weekend, then we're done! Thanks so much to everyone who followed along and left comments and kudos. I've had a ton of fun writing this.   
> While I've set this thing up to last for all seven years, I'm definitely too lazy to write the whole thing out. If you guys are actually interested I was thinking I could do a tumblr post or something (a rainy style headcannon type thing maybe?) laying out how the rest of the story goes. So let me know in comments (or on tumblr where I'm also @sinkingsidewalks) if that's something you want, or if you have any questions about this universe I'd be glad to answer them!  
> Again, I can't thank you all enough for reading this silly little self-indulgence. I hope you've had as much fun with it as I have.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the tiny little epilogue that is basically the scene that made me write this whole thing in the first place. A serious thank you to everyone still reading this. I'm going to put up the rest of the plot as an extra chapter to this, hopefully it'll be sometime next week but I can't make any promises!

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Scott asks, looking out over the lake. Bright, early summer sunlight reflects off the water. 

“Not really.” 

Tessa points her wand at her foot, directly to the blade of her skate and concentrates very hard as she speaks the spell. 

“Glacius,” she says, first to both of her feet, then repeating the magic on Scott’s. The bright green grass beneath their blades frosts over. 

“There’s only one way to find out though.” They link hands. The burns are healed completely, without even a hint of scarring left over except for the lightning bolt on Tessa’s wrist that she’s always had. That Voldemort gave her. 

They step down the bank of the lake together. At first she thinks it won’t have worked. That when she steps up to the lake her foot will go straight into the water as it would naturally. (She’s not looking forward to explaining to her mom how she soaked through and wrecked _two_ pairs of skates in the course of a school year.) 

But then her toe pick broaches the gentle, lapping waves, and she can feel the magic sing through her veins. It runs up from the tips of her fingers and back down into the palm of her hand, resting gently against Scott’s. 

Scott looks up at her with a wide grin and puts his foot down on the surface of the lake. Under his black skate, the water turns to a sheet of ice. 

“It worked!” He crows, and they both take another step. Wherever she puts her blade, the lake freezes, but around the bit of ice she balances on the water remains totally fluid. 

“You’re a genius, Tessa!” Scott laughs and she shares his infectious grin.

They walk awkwardly, making stepping stones down the shoreline. Then Tessa says ‘left’ to him under her breath and they’re both gliding on their left foot, the sheet of ice growing, following beneath them. 

“This is amazing.” Scott breathes. They pick up speed, racing around the circumference of the lake, knitting together a race track around the shallows. 

He turns them, pulls them inwards, deeper in the lake and Tessa grips his hand harder. The ice follows them though, knitted together under their feet, over the black surface of the water. 

Scott’s still laughing, holding her arms in a dance hold and turning and turning them across the ice. 

Then he releases her, pushes her one way across the ice while he goes in the other and in this piece of the choreography she knows they both spin. For a second she panics, thinking that with the line between them cut the ice will melt away and she’ll be sinking again. 

But she doesn’t feel the break. His hand may not be in hers any longer but she can still feel the tether of magic. It pulls them back together as she finishes her turn, like magnets drawn in to each other and the ice glides out in front of them.


End file.
